Apercu
by Muffy Morrigan
Summary: Since coming back from hell, nothing seems the same, but as the edges of his reality start to blur, Dean begins to suspect that maybe things aren't as they seem. Complete. AU. Hurt Dean, protective Sam.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is a story that won't let me rest. It started poking me just after the first airing of Jus In Belo and since then keeps poking. It even went so far as to hold my beloved plot bunny, OneBun, hostage. Now, it wouldn't let me move on to anything else until it was set free. Edge and The Forest will both be updated this week. I'm stuck in bed, mostly, but I finally convinced people that not writing was bad for my mental health, so I get a few hours a day to write. I am still trying to catch up on replies, I will get to everyone, cross my heart! Thank you to TraSan, Abni and InfiniteShadow for handholding on this one I needed it!_

_A/N II: I know it seems grim at the beginning, I promise it will be better! Promise! Just bear with me to the end of this chapter! AU. Title and chapter quotes are from the song by Kansas._

**Apercu**

_The mist of time is still concealing  
_ _The vision that I seek_  
_Those who died have all borne witness  
_ _If only they would speak_

Sleep was catching up with Dean. He'd made a mistake and had one shot too many, passing the line between buzzed enough to be numb and too drunk to stay awake. It was a huge mistake. Sleep was full of nightmares, of a return to hell and worse, far worse, were the dreams that came after hell. They weren't nightmares, exactly, but they had taken on nightmare proportions. They skewed his waking reality to the point that he was occasionally reacting to Sam based on those dreams and not the real world.

The real world pretty much sucked out loud.

As bad as it had been before he'd gone to hell, since he was back it was worse. Most of the time his brother felt like a stranger to him, the world had changed in ways he didn't recognize, and well, things sucked. The only escape he really managed was that numb buzz, but he couldn't maintain it all the time, and Sam was starting to notice. The problem with the booze was he occasionally slipped and ended up sleeping.

Dean struggled against the encroaching sleep, but couldn't fight it. The nightmare began almost immediately, forty years in hell playing over and over in his head. Then, as it all reached the point of too much, his sleep altered, he wasn't sure what it was, what made that difference, but something changed and the dream did, too.

_He was warm, lying on something soft, the scent of coffee drifted around him. His body shifted a tiny bit, like someone had sat down on the bed. __It felt like something cool swept over his face and hands, then a gentle pat on his chest._

"_Hey, Dean," Sam's voice filtered into the dream. "Bobby's on the way back. He's been out hunting. I think he has an idea, but I'm not sure it's the right one." There was a pause, like Sam had stopped to drink his coffee. "We are getting closer, though." Another pause, a soft female voice. "Oh? Really!" Sam's voice vibrated with excitement. "I don't believe it!" The warmth of Sam's hand rested on Dean's chest for a moment. "I'll be back, Dean, I might have news!"_

A loud sound from somewhere stopped the dream. Dean lay on the bed with his eyes closed, trying to drop back into sleep. Sam has sounded so much like... like... _Sam, not the stranger. _The door to the room opened quietly, Dean held still, feigning sleep. The smell of coffee came with Sam, like it had in the dream, but so did the smell of smoke, cheap perfume and something oddly... Dean concentrated. He couldn't place that other smell, but every instinct he had said it was bad.

He waited to the count of ten before opening his eyes. "Hey, is that coffee?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I walked down to that stand at the corner."

_Liar. I bet if I walked out of here and put my hand on the Impala, the engine would be warm. _"Good, I could use it."

"Yeah," Sam said, frowning at the bottle beside the bed.

"So," Dean sat up and took the cup Sam held out, "tell me why we're here again?"

"Six eviscerated dead bodies ring a bell?" Sam dropped into the chair at the small table and brushed an overly long strand of hair off his face. _I hate that hair. _"What?" Sam asked with a growl.

_Hate the growl, too. _"Just like cattle mutilations, right? But people?"

"Right, didn't we cover this last night?"

"We were in Hooters, you expect me to remember anything you said?" Dean asked with a little laugh. Sam was even more... more... than usual. It all felt so wrong.

"You were pretty fixated." Sam smiled, it was almost, so close, but not quite right.

_I hate that smile, too. Wish they'd just left me in the damn grave. _"Did you see the red head? Holy shit, Sammy," Dean stopped, the name had just slipped out, it did sometimes after the dream. "She was a former Miss something or other," he continued, Sam didn't seem to be aware of the pause.

"They found another body overnight, out in that field at the edge of town."

"What field?"

"Oh," Sam looked confused for a moment, Dean saw something shifty in Sam's eyes before Sam covered with a smile. "You know, the big one on the left as we pulled in."

_Out there with your little demon girlfriend? _"I didn't, I guess, I was too busy trying to keep the car from ending up in one of those potholes."

"I don't blame you, it might have broken an axle. You ready to go?"

_No, I want to stay here, I want to... _"I should probably shower."

"You might want to wait, I..." the pause was almost imperceptible. "From the reports, I think there might be bodies buried out there."

_You find them last night, Sam? _"Nothing like bodies in the morning to clear the sinuses. Okay, I'll get dressed and we can head out."

Twenty minutes later Dean was standing in the middle of a muddy field looking down at something that looked suspiciously like a little piece of... "Is that part of..."

"Someone's insides? Yeah," Sam said, sounding more like Sammy than he had in awhile.

"Always a party," Dean said. "So where to?"

"I found a pattern, one body was here," Sam paced away, stopping several yards away. "A hand here." He turned left and walked several long strides. "Part of the stomach here." Sam continued to pace around stopping every few yards. "It all adds up to something that looks almost like the pattern for a devil's trap when they are connected."

"How'd you figure that out?"

That look, the one that meant Sam was about to lie, crossed his face. "I mapped it out."

_Ah, so Ruby told you, is that it? _"Good thinking. You said something about more bodies?"

"Over here," Sam said, walking away. Dean could see tension in his back. He stopped by a mound at the edge of a drainage ditch. The ground was freshly dug. "Here... I think."

"You think?" Dean wandered over and looked down, there were still shovel marks at the edge of the loose earth.

"Yeah," Sam said in the hard voice that had become common since Dean's return from hell.

_You dug it up, didn't you? _"Why are you sure it's bodies?"

"The smell?" Sam asked, eyes narrowing.

Dean took a deep breath, under the smell of cold, of damp, there was the unmistakable scent of death. "Pretty faint."

"Maybe you're stuffed up."

_Maybe you're lying to me. _"Could be. Should we dig?"

"I'll get a shovel," Sam said, looking away from Dean. He turned and walked quickly towards the car.

Dean watched him go, as he stood there, he thought he heard an odd buzzing. He looked around, nothing seemed to be moving. A knot of tension started tying itself at the base of his neck, he wasn't sure what was causing it. When Sam reached the car, he glanced back, Dean quickly looked away. Sam moved away from the car to the broken down shack they'd parked beside. Dean spotted movement and knew, before he even saw her, who was there. _Ruby. I knew you were lying to me Sam, knew it. _Dean turned away and looked across the field.

The wind had come up, he could see the first puff of it moving the dried grass as it got nearer. He caught a whiff of something, carried on the breeze. Something in the smell sent all the warning bells of in his head and he was running before he even knew why. Whatever it was hit him, and hit him hard. He felt himself moving through the air, almost as if he was being blown along by the wind. He connected with the car and everything went black.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was anxious, "Dean, come on, can you hear me?" Gentle, worried, Dean could almost hear the frown in Sam's tone, that funny little squinch of worry. Dean tried to fight his way out of the dark, but it was hard. "Dean!" a warm hand on his, squeezing. "Dean, come on! Can you hear me? Give me a sign, man, something." Dean tried to close his hand over Sam's. "DEAN!" Sam's shout was almost deafening. "I think he moved! Dean, come on!" The dark was starting to give way, light creeping in under his eyelids. "No, Dean..."

Dean opened his eyes as Sam bent over him. "I'm okay, Sammy," he said automatically, reacting to the fear in his brother's voice.

"What happened?" Sam asked in an entirely different tone.

"What?" Dean struggled to sit up. Sam offered him a hand, then moved away. Dean sighed, there had been a time when...

"What happened?"

"I don't know, did you see anything?" Dean said, looking at the shovel in his brother's hand and feeling the lump on the back of his head. _Did Sam...?_

"No, I heard something behind the building and went to investigate and heard you shout."

"Oh, I thought, huh." Dean pushed himself up, using the car for leverage. "What was behind the building?"

"A cat," Sam said with a smile that was almost convincing, except for the lie in his eyes.

_Yeah, a catty bitch of a demon. _"Gotta watch out for the cats."

"Yeah," Sam laughed.

They walked back over to the mound. Sam jammed the shovel in the ground and had a body unearthed in less than two minutes. He used the shovel to turn it over. "Oh nice," Dean said, swallowing his coffee back where it belonged. Dean squatted down. "This looks like..." _Like it was cut. _

"Like something with claws did it."

_What the hell? Do you think I'm blind? _"Claws?" Dean bent closer like he was confirming it, it looked more like a knife in the hands of someone that knew exactly what they were doing. A thought so terrible it chilled him to the bone started to form, he shoved it away, not willing to look at it. "Yeah, I guess, so you think it's an animal?"

Sam was staring at the body with the odd look he got sometimes. "Hmm? Yeah, I think so, black dog?"

"No, they would have done more damage, not this specific."

"Yeah," Sam squatted beside him. "Werewolf?"

"Heart's missing, but so are the lungs, and other organs."

"A lot of predators eat the intestines and stuff first."

"Then bury some of the food in mounds and leave some out in devil's trap patterns?" Dean couldn't keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. _What the hell, how stupid do you think I am?_

"No," Sam said in that irritating "what are you thinking" like Dean was a moron tone that popped up all the time anymore. "I was just saying..."

"Saying what, Sam?" Dean snapped. His head was pounding.

"Nothing, what's wrong with you?" Sam tried for a concerned look. "Maybe we should head back, you hit your head pretty hard."

"Yeah, you noticed that?" Dean said, not sure where the anger was coming from, it was always there anymore.

"Dean?"

"Should we look anywhere else? Did the _cat _mention anything?"

Sam looked at him for a moment, a scared look, like he'd gotten caught at something, then huffed, stood and walked to the Impala. He opened the trunk, threw the shovel in so hard Dean heard it where he still crouched by the body and then got in the car, arms crossed, looking out the windshield, not even acknowledging Dean's presence.

_Yep, sucks out loud. _Dean stood and headed to the car.

They managed to reestablish the armed truce between them on the way back to town. Dean couldn't help himself, in the car. Sam in the passenger seat, still reminded him of more good times than bad. By the time they got to a small diner and ordered food, Sam was talking again. Chatting about what it could be, still with the dark look in his eye, but sounding like Sam chasing answers. Dean smiled. The year before he'd died had been rough too, and as the year had moved on, his brother had become more withdrawn, the relationship starting to break. Dean blamed himself, figured Sam blamed him. He missed Sam, his Sam, the Sammy of years past. Missed the man who said... Dean turned away from those memories, they seemed so long ago. _What ever happened to "I want my brother back just 'cause" Sam? Maybe I should..._

When they left the diner, Sam headed to the library and Dean to the public records department. After a futile hour questioning various clerks, he finally managed to charm some information out of the town historian. The seventy-odd-year-old woman pinched him as they walked into the records' room. Dean smiled, blushing, wondering what Sam would have to say to that. Once he got the files—and himself—free of the woman, he walked across the street and bought a bottle to numb himself for the evening.

Sam played at research for a couple of hours when they got back to the room, sitting at the table, poking at his laptop. Dean set out to drink. Sam didn't seem interested in his conversation, so Dean watched "Rock of Love" and finished half the bottle. He had drifted into something close to sleep when he heard Sam's phone ring. A moment later, Sam got up, the door closed softly and the Impala had roared to life.

_Off to his nightly entertainment with Ruby. Nice. _

**XXX**

The sun was rising as Sam drove the Impala through town. It had rained the night before and the sky was an amazing shade of pink and apricot. It had been a long night. He had been sure he'd found what he needed, but it hadn't panned out. Then Ruby called. It looked like an answer, finally an answer. Sam sighed, easing the car into the lot. He took a sip of his coffee and rested his head against the steering wheel for a minute before getting out. Bobby was due in later, and he had no idea what the older hunter would say when he got there.

Ruby was waiting when he got out. She pounced on him with her usual energy, demanding answers before he even got a chance to say hello. She always was like that, he had no idea where she got the energy. Of course, she knew him well enough now to just keep talking when he was silent. Sam leaned against the brick wall and waited for her to finish. "And I double checked, I think it will work."

"I think so, too," he said quietly. She smiled at him, the smile, no doubt that had launched a thousand ships in its time. "What we tried yesterday didn't."

"It was close, though, so close," she said softly, laying a hand on his arm.

"Yeah, close." Sam sighed and pushed himself off the wall and headed into the building. He could hear Ruby trailing behind him.

When he reached the room he walked in, knowing she would wait before she came in. He set his coffee on the table and walked into the small bathroom wet a washcloth and sat on the edge of the bed.

_Oh, god, Dean. _

Sam gently washed his brother's face and hands with the cloth. He knew the nuns took good care of Dean, but he needed this contact, needed to somehow pay back a little of the huge debt he owed his brother for raising him, for everything. Sam swallowed, as usual tears found their way down his face. It had been so long since the warehouse, so long since he'd found Dean like this.

Ruby came into the room, Sam looked up at her with a smile. He had no idea how he would have made it without her support, she was the anchor in a very stormy sea, offering friendship and affection and hope. It was the unflagging hope that she gave so freely that Sam loved her for, that "never say die" attitude that preceded her into the room, that surrounded her like a curtain of joy and warmth. There was something about the way she smiled, the way it lit her eyes and crinkled her face, that helped him get through.

He thanked every power in the universe daily for pointing him to the small facility for the elderly and dying run by the Sisters, even though he had at first been a little intimidated by the full habits the sister wore. Something about that brought back bad memories of the one Catholic school he had attended briefly when he was ten. The reluctance had disappeared as soon as he'd met the ever -fficient, joyful and bubbling eighty-five-year-old Sister Ruby.

"How is he?" she asked softly, resting her wrinkled hand in Dean's forehead. She whispered a soft _Ave _then smiled at Sam. "Did you tell him?"

"Not yet." Sam put his right hand on Dean's chest and picked up his brother's hand in his left. He squeezed it. "Hey, Dean," he said gently, a lump in his throat. "Sorry about yesterday, it wasn't quite what I wanted. But Dean," He glanced at the small nun, she nodded, beaming at him. "Ruby... I think she found a way, Dean, a way to help a way to end this."

He tightened the grip on Dean's hand. So many months clinging to hope as the coma continued, so many months waiting for Dean to just die, to just finally slip away forever. So many months hunting the thing that had done this.

"Dean, we've found a way, I'm coming, Dean, just hang on a little longer. We found a way to get to you, to free you from this. Hang on, please, Dean, just..." He tried to swallow the lump, Ruby put her arm around his shoulders as he fought the tears. "Tonight, Dean. I'll be there tonight, I promise, wait for me, please."

It caught up to him, then, that there was finally something he could do to save Dean. He leaned forward and put his head on Dean's shoulder and let the tears go. He'd need everything he had to get through what was coming.

_Maybe I can bring you home, Dean. Maybe this time you can come home. _

_**To Be Continued**_

_A/N III: Don't worry I won't keep you hanging long. Like I said, this story will not let me rest. Hey—if anyone is going to LA, I would love a chance to say hi and thanks in person!_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you all for reading and your reviews. I am working through my replies, I promise. I meant to update this a little sooner, but LA and then recovering from LA took time. Just a reminder this is AU. _

**Apercu**

**Chapter Two**

_Now and then we've all been given  
__A glimpse of bygone days  
__I'd give all to see it clearly  
__Not shrouded in the haze_

Hell was beginning to give way. Dean sighed in his sleep, waiting for that moment when the dreams shifted, from hell and torture, to that other voice, the voice that sounded like Sam. The Sam Dean was beginning to think of as "his Sammy", the brother he'd known before hell, before the deal. A knife drove into him, pain filling his body, Alastair's grin filling his face and then... it changed, the sulfur of hell replaced by the scent of coffee. It seemed stronger this time, Dean relaxed and let the dream form around him. Something warm and heavy was clasped around his hand, the grip tightened.

"_Sorry about yesterday, it wasn't quite what I wanted. But Dean," Sammy's voice filtered down into the dream. "Ruby... I think she found a way, Dean, a way to help a way to end this." Dean wondered what Ruby had to do with yesterday, what she had to do with Sammy. The resentment and distrust of her that filled his waking hours didn't seem to exist here, there was something different in the way Sam said her name. _

_Sam's voice was strained as he continued. "Dean, we've found a way, I'm coming, Dean, just hang on a little longer. We found a way to get to you, to free you from this. Hang on, please, Dean, just...Tonight, Dean. I'll be there tonight, I promise, wait for me, please._" _Sam's voice broke on the last please. Dean felt a shift of weight and something that felt like his brother's head on his shoulder. He tried to force his dream-self to comfort Sam, to raise his hand to lay it on his brother's back, to stop the sobs tearing through the other. When that didn't work, he focused with everything he had and tried to tighten the grip on the hand holding his. "DEAN!" Sam's weight was gone, his voice caught between panic and joy. "Dean? Dean can you hear me?"_

A loud thump, the car door slamming closed, was pulling Dean away from the dream.

"_Dean, listen to me, hang on, just a little longer, I'll be there, I promise. Dean, I... What do I say so he knows?" Sam sounded like he was asking someone else for advice._

Light was creeping under Dean's eyelids, he clung desperately to the dream, but consciousness was getting the upper hand.

"_Trust me, Dean. I'll be there. Trust me. Jerk."_

"Bitch," Dean said as he woke up.

"What?" Sam said as he came through the door, coffee in hand.

"Huh?" Dean struggled up, the dream still drifting around him, reality, just for an instant longer, caught in that place. "Sorry, where you been?" he asked, reaching for the cup Sam held out.

"I went to get coffee and ask around at the diner about the case." Sam sat at the small table and looked at Dean, every line on his body saying "I'm lying." The stink of cigarette smoke wafted around Sam, the smell of cheap perfume blending with coffee to make Dean nauseous.

"And?"

"They found another body."

_So you and your little demon found one? _"Where?"

"Same place we were yesterday."

"We should check it out." Dean set the coffee down and walked into the bathroom. He stared at his reflection, there was a dark bruise on his forehead, a healing cut on his neck. Sometimes he wondered when he would look in a mirror and see himself again. He didn't see anything familiar a lot of the time, there was something in his eyes, on his face, bitter, empty, that just didn't seem right. _And that sounds more than a little insane, you know. _Of course the Sam he saw, had seen every day since returning from hell, didn't look like Sam either. _Face it, hell was the end, it took everything we were, everything we had and destroyed it. He must hate me for that, for the year before, for the months I was in hell. But how do I apologize? _

"We're heading out to check it out," Sam's was saying, his voice low. Dean stepped silently to the door of the bathroom so he could listen. "I don't think he suspects anything... Yeah, same place as yesterday, but we'll make it work this time. I think we're almost there, if we're lucky we'll get it to work tonight." A long pause as he waited for someone to speak. "Don't call me again, just be there, and be ready, we don't have many chances. Right." Dean held his breath waiting for more, but Sam must have broken the connection.

He eased the door open so he could see into the room, Sam had his back to him, digging through his bag. Dean thought he saw Sam pocket something, then straighten, turning towards the bathroom. Dean pushed the door open at the same time. "Who were you talking to?" he asked as he picked up the keys and walked out the door.

"Housekeeping, they wanted to know if we needed more towels," Sam said with a sideways slide of his eyes.

_You can't come up with a better lie than that? Huh, Sam? _"Nice that they asked." Dean got in the car and headed out towards the field, when he parked he made sure he was well away from the run-down shack he'd seen Ruby behind the day before. He sensed Sam's eyes on him as he stopped the car. _What is that about? _"Was it a whole body?"

"What?"

"Or just bits?"

"Bits?" Sam sounded confused.

"Body bits?" Dean smirked.

"Oh, they found most of a body," Sam said as he got out of the car. Dean watched as he glanced around the area, obviously looking for something.

"Most?" Dean followed Sam across the field. "Most is fun."

"I think it must be part of the pattern we found yesterday."

_Part of the pattern you pointed out yesterday that you... _"Even more fun. What does it mean?" Dean noticed a faint trail on the ground, someone had paced along the area they were walking, the grass was bent and every once in awhile Dean spotted the mark of a shoe in the mud. Mostly the marks were only the edge of the sole, but one was larger. He crouched down to get a better look. His heart sank. The tread was familiar and the size of that footprint... He stood and faced Sam. "Looks like a footprint."

"Really?" Sam bent down like he was investigating. "Big."

_Yeah, it is, Sam. _"Uh huh."

"They must be tall, judging by the stride, think it's human?" Sam ran a finger along the edge of the print.

_Yep, tall. About six four I bet, but human? Not sure about that anymore. _"Maybe."

"Ritual killings of some kind?" Sam stood and met his eyes.

"I thought it was an animal, that's what you said yesterday." _Before I found your footprint._

"Maybe they're working together? Black dog summoned to work with..."

"Black dog?" _You lying little... _

"No, probably not." Sam frowned, looking across the field. "What's that?" He pointed towards the drainage ditch. Dean saw the grass moving like something was coming towards them. "Dean?" Sam sounded unsure, whatever was happening wasn't part of the plan.

"You don't know?" Dean took a step back.

"Know?"

"Part of the ritual maybe?" Dean didn't like the tremor of fear he heard in Sam's voice.

"I don't..."

The wind was picking up, swirling in front of the movement. It was creeping across the field, the grass shifting in the breeze and something behind it, Dean caught a fleeting impression of something on two legs, something like a shadow hiding in the grass. "Sam?"

"Run?"

"Running can be good," Dean said, grinning at Sam, his brother grinned too, more like his Sammy than he'd been in a long time. Then the smile was gone and the other Sam was back. Dean followed his glance and saw Ruby sliding along behind the car.

He could hear the roar of the wind as it got closer. Sam stumbled, Dean sped up to get to his brother before the gust caught them. "Sam!" he shouted as the wind swept over him and drove Sam to the ground. Dean managed to stay on his feet, racing towards where his brother was down, the angry whirlwind whipping around him. "Sam!" Dean didn't know how he knew the wind had changed its focus, but he did. He turned to lead it away from Sam and was nearly back to the car when it caught him. He was lifted and felt himself moving through the air, the impact with the ground didn't stop the movement. He was tumbled along the uneven terrain, pain radiating through his limbs. Finally he came to a stop, slamming into something solid, black spots dancing through his vision as he tried to get a sense of what happened. Dean saw Sam jogging towards him, a frown on his face. There was another sound, closer, tied to the wind and something else, a sudden jolt of pain, like an electric shock and then nothing.

"_Dean! Dean, no, not now. Hang on, please. Just a little longer." Sammy's voice, afraid. "Help him. Please."_

"_Sam! Give them room," that sounded like Bobby._

"_Please, Dean," Sam's voice was fading along with everything else. "You die now, you jerk and I'll hunt you down Dean... Hunt you like... like..."_

The what Sam would hunt him like was lost as darkness closed in. He thought Sam bent over him as it all faded to black.

**XXX**

The medical staff had raced into the room with the first hesitation on the monitors. They pushed Sam away from the bed, he was trying to get back to Dean, trying to let his brother know he was there, just in case it was happening again. _What do I do? How do I stop it, no, he has to hang on this time. We aren't quite ready. Damn. _Bobby's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Sam! Give them room," Bobby said, panic flowing through his voice and trembling in the hand resting on Sam's arm.

"Bobby, I need to get to him, let him know we're here. You know it's getting worse. He has to know we're here, he has to, he needs to hang on," Sam pleaded. "He can't go, not now."

"If his heart doesn't start, Sam, nothing matters."

"Please, Dean!" Sam shouted, hoping his voice would carry over the other noises in the room. "Please, Dean hang on!" The ever-present tears were running over his face again. _No, not when we're this close. _He had to reach his brother, had to let him know, give him hope. How? Something suddenly played in Sam's head. Dean on a hospital bed, with the "laughing in the face of death" look on his face. The look that meant he was terrified, but trying to make it easier on Sam. He hoped Dean would remember. Sam took a deep breath, "You die now, you jerk and I'll hunt you down, Dean... Hunt you like... like..." His voice broke, but he plowed on. "Like a fabric softener teddy bear. You hear me, Dean?" _Please, Dean._

"Sam?" Ruby said softly.

"He can't go now, Ruby. He can't."

"We won't let him, not until tonight," she said gently. "He doesn't have a choice, does he? With the three of us praying for him."

"Yeah," Sam said, trying to hang on. Some days it felt like everything would just slip out of his control and he'd go crazy. "You really want to make Ruby mad?" _Please, please, please. _

"Hang on, boy," Bobby grumbled from beside him.

"_Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum,_" Ruby's soft voice calmed Sam. He leaned against her as they continued working on Dean, his mind running over the Latin as she recited it, absently translating, letting that exercise calm him. He could hear Bobby muttering under his breath, it might have been a prayer, or just a soft "please" but he knew that the older hunter was focused on Dean as well.

"Please, Dean, please," Sam repeated over and over. It felt like he'd been standing there forever, watching as Dean slipped away, watching as Dean... He closed his eyes, not sure he could look any longer.

"Sam?" the voice of Dean's doctor broke through to Sam. A gentle hand squeezed his shoulder. "He's okay."

"He's okay?" Sam said, scrubbing the tears off his face. He walked to the bed and sank down on it, dropping a hand on Dean's chest, feeling the comforting beat of his brother's heart against his palm.

"He's okay. Again," the doctor chuckled softly. "I think we've passed the 'lives of a cat' point and moved onto something else."

"A miracle?" Ruby said, her face breaking into a spiderweb of wrinkles as she smiled.

"You and your miracles, Sister."

"It's part of our job, Brother," she chided. "You brought too much cynicism with you when you entered the Order."

"One of my many failings," he said with a wry smile.

"What happened?" Sam asked, looking at the doctor. It had taken him awhile to warm up to the man when Dean's first doctor had been transferred away, but after they'd worked out their differences, Sam had grown to like the former surgeon turned monk.

"It's getting worse, whatever is pulling him away, it's like..."

"He's giving up hope," Sam finished for him. "I know." He sighed, watching Dean's face for a long moment.

"We might have an answer to that," Ruby said firmly. Bobby gave her a wild look and the doctor frowned. "We do, so wipe that look off your face Cas, just because you're a doctor now, doesn't mean I can't turn you over my knee like I did when you were in grade school."

"You terrify me, Ruby," he chuckled. "Is this something I want to know about?"

"Probably not," she said serenely.

"Will we need medical staff standing by?" he asked, his frown deepening.

"Maybe, you might want to light a candle, too."

"Or start one of Sister Ruby's all purpose, fast working nine second novenas?" Cas said, smiling at her.

"Nine second novena?" Sam asked, looking from the doctor to the nun. "I thought they took nine days."

"Not hers," the doctor said with a good-natured growl.

"Sometimes I don't have time to wait nine days, I speed things up a little, that's all," she said with a gentle smile.

"Right, you know Sister, I'm not sure," Cas said teasingly, Sam couldn't help smiling, the two of them reminded him of an old comedy team he and Dean had watched late one night.

"Don't start with me, I'm sure St. Ethelred would understand."

"Do you have an obscure saint for all occasions?" the doctor asked. "Don't answer that, I already know. Alright, I'm pretty sure you know what you're doing." He turned to Sam. "As long as you're sure?"

"I'm not sure, no. But I think it's our only chance."

"If you're not sure, Sam...."

"Is Dean dying?" Sam asked, meeting the doctor's eyes.

"Maybe not today or tomorrow, but yes." He came to stand beside the bed. "It's getting harder to bring him back. It's not his body, it's whatever else is affecting him, and I'm beginning to think we don't have as long as I hoped."

"It's because they know," Ruby said.

"Know what?" Bobby growled.

"About our plan," she smiled at the older hunter.

"Plan?" Panic flared in Bobby's face.

"Bobby," Sam began with a sigh. "We found a way to get to Dean."

"Sam..." If he didn't know Bobby, he would be terrified of the tone of that growl.

"It has to be tonight," he continued, ignoring Bobby. "You're the one who discovered the eclipses, and Ruby found a spell."

"See? I knew I didn't want to hear this," Cas said, looking from Ruby to Sam. "Spells, Sister?"

"It will let Sam go where Dean is, let him talk to him," she said, unaffected by the glares directed at her. "In fact, I'm glad you're here."

"Oh no," the doctor said. "Oh, no, I know that look."

"It will make everything so much easier."

"No, you are not dragging me into one of your..."

"You know more about drugs than I do, and I was a little worried about Sam..."

"What are you talking about?" Bobby asked, holding his hand up.

"Ruby found a way to Dean, Bobby. The eclipses open a door, I can get in and if he'll listen, we can bring him home."

"No." Bobby was shaking his head.

"Bobby," Sam said softly.

"No, Sam."

Sam stood and walked to their friend. "You heard Brother Castiel, Dean's dying. We are going to lose him, Bobby, and tonight is our only chance, he won't last until there is another solar and lunar eclipse within seven days of each other." Sam put his hands on Bobby's shoulders. "I don't know if I can last much longer Bobby. I have to try, if it doesn't work, it doesn't matter."

"Sam..."Desperation tinged the older hunter's voice.

"We need to start as the sun sets, Bobby, I could use your help." He met Bobby's eyes. "Dean wouldn't hesitate, how can I?"

"You'll die."

"We don't know that," Sam said. "It's the only way to him. We've tried everything else."

"What about killing it tonight?"

"You know as well as I do that won't work. It would kill Dean, or worse."

"I know, Sam," Bobby said, defeated. He dropped his head.

"Please, Bobby, I..." Sam swallowed. "I can't let this chance pass, not when I could help him, I don't care what happens, as long as we get Dean back. Please, Bobby." Sam's eyes stung as tears broke free and coursed down his cheeks.

Bobby was still for a long time, his breathing harsh. Finally he looked up, tears sparkling on his cheeks. "What do I need to do?"

Two hours later, after he'd retrieved the last items they needed from the Impala, Sam sat down on Dean's bed. He laid his hand on his brother's chest, hoping that this time they could free him. "If not, Dean, I..." Sam sighed, remembering the shouting match he'd had with Bobby a few minutes before. "If it doesn't work, Dean, this is our last chance. I have another answer for us, and asked Bobby, but he said..."

"Sam?" Bobby had come into the room.

"What?" Sam said, hearing the desperate anger in his own voice.

"Please don't ask me."

"Bobby, if this doesn't work," he trailed off. _It has to work, it has to. _

"Sam," Bobby put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Ten months, Bobby, this is our last chance, our only chance, and if it doesn't work... I'm not going to leave him there."

"I know, Sam, I couldn't either." Bobby sighed, Sam looked up at him and saw the determination there. "I talked to Cas and Ruby, if we can't get you out, if something happens... We won't leave either of you there."

"Thank you," Sam said softly, knowing what he was asking of the older man. Killing them would be hard for Bobby, but it was better than the alternative. "It's about time to start the ritual."

"Yeah," Bobby said, grief pulling his shoulders down, making deep lines of pain in his face.

Sam stood. "Bobby, I..." he stopped and pulled Bobby against him, leaning into the hug, hoping it wasn't goodbye.

"You just come back, you hear me?" Bobby said gruffly.

"Right."

"Sam?" Ruby was standing at the door, Cas beside her. "We need to start."

"I know." Sam took picked up his bag, lit the candles and began the spell. He traced the pattern on the floor, on Dean's bed, and on the bed they'd brought in and put beside his brother's. Finally he traced a careful design on Dean's forehead, handed the knife and ink to Bobby, and laid down on the other bed. Ruby stepped forward and took Sam's hand and placed it on Dean's arm.

"Are you sure?" Cas asked, frowning as he swabbed Sam's arm.

"Yes, hurry, please." The needle bit into his arm. Bobby moved to stand over him, tracing a pattern on his forehead.

"Bring your brother home," Bobby said.

Sam tried to nod, but the drug was already pulling him away. He tightened the hold he had on his brother and let the world fade away.

**XXX**

Dean wondered how the bed at the motel could be more uncomfortable than the rocky ground in the field, but it was. There was a huge hard lump under a bruised rib that was approaching the "severe" pain level. The level when he finally broke down and asked for something to help.

The ride back to their room was a blur. He remembered waking in the field, Sam bent over him, then blacking out again, waking in the car, watching rain drum against the window for a moment, then fading, not quite out, not quite there, as he was manhandled into the room. Sam must have checked him over and decided that he wasn't seriously injured. When Dean had opened his eyes, Sam was sitting at the table, laptop open, poking at the keys. He sighed, there had been a time when even fairly minor injures at least rated a squinch, that little frown that was uniquely Sam's. It seemed to have disappeared along with other parts of Sam. _I want my brother back, 'cause, well just 'cause. _Dean sighed, Sam looked over at him with a smile.

"How's your head?" Sam asked.

"Hurts," Dean said, blinking. "I might need a Tylenol."

"Sure." Sam walked into the bathroom and came out with the bottle of pills and a glass of water. He made a show of opening the bottle before shaking out two pills and handing them to Dean.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure. The wind came up and then something attacked you. It hit me too, when I came to you were down, in the middle of the devil's trap. I'm not sure where the cuts came from."

"Cuts?" Dean asked, suddenly aware of stinging on his chest and arms.

"I'm going to go back out there, see if I can find anything."

_Off with your little demon bitch again? _"Okay, let me get up," Dean said, sitting up. The room spun around him, black spots dancing in front of his eyes. He blinked trying to focus on Sam, the dizziness increased. Dean closed his eyes, hoping it would pass, he felt his head drop back against the pillows. _"Dean, this is our last chance," Sammy's voice, the gentle, worried voice that came with that frown, said. _

"I think you should stay here," Sam said, his voice hard.

"Yeah," Dean muttered, aware of the warmth buzzing through his body. _Did he drug me? Or is this because of the injury? And since when do we leave each other when we're hurt? _

"I'll be back in an hour, I have my phone." Sam turned on the TV, picked up the keys and with a last look, walked out of the room.

"Great," Dean said, leaning against the pillows. He'd been drifting for about fifteen minutes, listening to an old episode of "The Simpsons" when he heard something rattle in the lock, like someone had picked it, then the door opened. Whoever was there paused on the threshold for a moment before walking to the bed.

"Oh god, Dean," Sammy said softly. Before Dean could get his eyes opened, Sam had moved away. He heard the water in the bathroom and then Sam was back. "What happened?" A cool cloth brushed his face, then along his right arm. "This might need stitches, what the hell?" Sam sounded angry, but it was different somehow.

"Sammy?" Dean said, reacting to the tone in his brother's voice.

"Dean? Hey, man, let me get the first aid kit and fix this." Sam's weight moved from the bed, Dean heard Sam rustling through the bag a moment later. He opened his eyes and watched as Sam turned around.

Something was different.

Not just something, everything.

Sam was frowning, the squinch of concern curling between his brows, nearly hidden beneath long bangs.

"Sammy?" Dean asked again.

"Yeah," his brother replied, sitting back on the bed and cleaning the wounds on Dean's forearms. He'd turned his attention to a cut on Dean's head when the sound of the Impala's engine filled the room."Shit," Sam said quietly. Dean looked at him, his face had drained of color. "I was hoping we'd have a little more time."

"What's going on?"

"We need to talk Dean, before," Sam broke off when the door opened.

"Before what?" Dean asked, but stopped when he saw the door open, staring from his brother, sitting on the bed, to the figure filling the doorway. "Sam?"

"What?" They both answered, the one on the bed and the one in the door.

There was a pause that lasted the length of a heartbeat before the Sam at the door launched himself towards them.

_**To Be Continued**_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Once again, I am sorry this chapter has taken awhile, but I can say that I hope the days of slow posting will soon be behind me! We finally have surgery scheduled, for May 5, so there might not be an update next week, although my doctor says I can have the computer if it will keep me resting! Thank you all for your reviews and support, they mean so much! Thanks to TraSan._

**Apercu**

**Chapter Three**

_Yet I saw it all inside me, for a moment  
Were you with me?  
Have we done it all before,  
I__s there really so much more?_

The cold seeped into him, soaking through cloths and skin and settling in his bones. There was a soft breeze blowing, chilling him further, as awareness crept in, he realized it was raining. Sam opened his eyes and looked around, a winter landscape surrounded him, the trees black in the rain, their leafless branches reaching into the iron-gray sky. He sighed and sat up, wondering where he was, wondering how he could find Dean. _Was this really a good idea? _

He was in the middle of a field, he stood and could see the faintest lines of a devil's trap on the ground. _What's that? And why can I see it? Wait! _Sam bent closer to one of the symbols on the trap. _I think this is one of the ones I made. _He walked around the edge of the design, then spotted footprints, the tracks led him to the distinctive tread of tires, a tread he'd recognize anywhere. The Impala. With another quick look around, he headed in the direction the tire tracks came from, hoping he wasn't too far out of town. _I kind of expected to wake up where Dean was, weird, I wonder why I'm here. _

Sam reached the paved road, it looked like the Impala had turned from the left, so he went that direction. He was on the edge of a small town, grain silos rose out of the flat land, a single church steeple pierced the sky. There was very little traffic and everywhere was a feeling of desolation, emptiness. _You know Dean? This really sucks. _He crossed the railroad tracks that bordered the town and paused, wondering which direction to go, when he noticed a neon sign, several letters missing, but he guessed Dean would be staying at the "ates pp y amily otel." A familiar rumble sounded from his right, he stepped out to stop the car, then at the last moment, slipped behind one of the grain cars waiting on the tracks, and watched as the Impala and its single occupant—himself—drove by. Sam waited for a count of ten before stepping from behind the rail car and walking into town.

The only word to describe the town was "bleak." Many of the storefronts were boarded over, others had broken windows. There was an odd sour grease smell on the breeze, Sam discovered where it was coming from as he walked past a diner. A public building stood across the street, one window was broken and boarded up, several cars were parked out front, but the building "felt" empty, abandoned. That sense of emptiness permeated everything. With a sigh, Sam walked on, heading towards the motel.

He slipped past the office. The man behind the desk was watching a black and white TV, an old clothes hanger on the top for an antenna. _Yeah, this really sucks. We are talking about this, Dean. _The first three rooms were empty, the fourth had a housekeeping cart parked out front. The curtains at the fifth were closed, but Sam peeked through the small opening between them. The TV was on, Sam shifted so he could see the rest of the room.

Dean was asleep on one of the beds.

Sam glanced around, making sure no one would see, then bent down and, as silently as possible, picked the lock. He opened the door and stood on the threshold for a moment, just to make sure they were alone, before walking to the bed. "Oh god, Dean," he said softly, getting a good look at the blood on his brother. Sam stepped quickly to the bathroom, wet a washcloth and sat on the edge of the bed. "What happened?" he whispered, wiping the blood off Dean's face. He turned his brother's arm over to get a look at the wound on it. "This might need stitches, what the hell?" _What the hell? Why didn't I, he, well me here, take care of this? _

"Sammy?" Dean said quietly.

"Dean? Hey, man, let me get the first aid kit and fix this," Sam said, getting up to look for the kit. He swallowed hard several times, trying to keep control of the emotions that were threatening to break him. _It's been how long? _When he turned back to the bed, his brother was watching him.

"Sammy?" Dean asked again, an odd tone in his voice. Sam tried to place it, but couldn't, then wondered if somehow his brother could sense something was different.

"Yeah," he answered. _Yeah, it's me. _ He carefully cleaned and dressed the wound on Dean's forearm, then turned his attention to the cut on his brother's head, wondering how to start the conversation they needed to have for Dean to... Suddenly, the low rumble of the Impala filled the room. _Too soon, no, not yet. Do they know I'm here? "_Shit," Sam said quietly. Dean looked at him. "I was hoping we'd have a little more time."

"What's going on?"

"We need to talk Dean, before," Sam broke off when the door opened.

"Before what?" Dean stopped when the door opened. Sam saw his brother look from him to the other filling the doorway. "Sam?" Dean asked softly

"What?" Sam answered, the man at the door answered at the same time. There was a pause of a several seconds before the other launched himself at Sam. He hit him hard, driving him off the bed and into the wall. He dragged Sam up and slammed him against the wall, Sam saw stars for a moment before focusing on the angry face in front of him. His face, only the eyes had a soft yellow glint to them. The other had his hands around Sam's throat, slowly cutting off the air. From somewhere else, Sam thought he could hear Ruby's worried voice. _No, not dying, not yet. _Sam focused everything into taking the other down. _"When all else fails, play dirty." _Dean's voice played in his head. _Okay, Dean. _Sam kneed the other in the groin as hard as he could, the pressure on his throat was released and man collapsed to the floor.

"What's going on?" Dean was sitting up, staring from Sam to the man on the floor.

"We have to go," Sam said, grabbing his brother's arm and dragging him off the bed. Dean resisted for a moment, then let himself be led from the room, he paused at the door. "Dean, please!"

"What's going on?" Dean demanded in his not to be questioned voice. "Who are you?" he said, yanking his arm away.

"Sam, I'm Sam."

"No," Dean was shaking his head.

"Yes, Dean. You have to listen, this is, none of this is..." Pain blossomed before he was even aware of the movement. Sam looked down in surprise at his chest and his own knife, the one Dean had given him for his sixteenth birthday, sticking out of his abdomen.

"Sammy!" Dean said, catching him as he fell. "What's going on?" he snapped at the other man.

"He's a demon, Dean," the other said.

"No, I'm Sam," Sam said quietly. He could hear Ruby's voice clearer now, and Cas's worried baritone. Bobby's shouts were a backdrop to the conversation between Dean and the man wearing Sam's face.

"Sammy?" Dean asked desperately.

Sam's eyes closed, everything was fading. "Dean," he said, trying to reach him one last time. "It's me." It was all nearly gone, the frantic voices from elsewhere overpowering everything around him. "Jerk," he managed to get out before he was pulled away.

"Bitch?" Dean asked softly, disbelief in his voice then he was gone.

"Bring him back!" Bobby shouted.

"I'm trying! We gave him a hell of a dose to put him out!" Cas said.

"Language, Brother," Ruby chided gently.

"Sam? Can you hear me" Cas demanded, Sam groaned and tried to focus. "Sam? Sam! I don't want to give him more, we're risking..."

"...Back," Sam mumbled, he meant to say "send me back," but the first words were lost.

"Welcome back, Sam," Ruby said, patting his hand as Sam opened his eyes.

"No! I have to go back! You have to send me back! I found him," Sam pleaded.

"Sam, no," Bobby said firmly.

Sam looked around, the candles were still burning, so not too much time had passed. "There's time! Send me back."

"What happened?" Cas asked, frowning at Sam.

"Doesn't matter," Bobby said.

"What happened?" the monk repeated.

"He killed me," Sam said.

"Dean?" Bobby asked, shocked.

"No, me."

"What?" three voices said at once.

"The other me, the me in Dean's reality. He killed me, that's why I have to go back."

"This makes no sense at all, it's a hallucination," Cas said quietly.

"His eyes, Bobby. They were yellow. He's there, he has to be, we've suspected all along that he's there and he is, with Dean and that's why he killed me. I have to get back."

"Whose eyes? Your—his—the other one's eyes? What?" Cas asked.

"He's there?" Bobby said softly, something near to panic on his face.

"Yeah, he is. I have to go back."

"If he's there, Sam has to go back," Ruby agreed.

"No. I... I don't know what will happen, I don't know if we can get you back again," Cas said.

"I don't think Sam is worrying about that, are you?" Ruby turned knowing eyes on him.

"What?" _How did she know?_

"Getting yourself out was never part of your plan, was it?"

"WHAT?" Bobby exploded.

"Bobby," Sam said, looking at the older hunter. "We have to get Dean out, no matter what."

"No, Sam. No way!"

"Bobby..."

"What?" Cas echoed. "Oh no, I am not getting involved in this."

"Too late, Brother," Ruby smiled at him. "So you might as well play. You always were hesitant."

"And you always just jump off the edge of a cliff and expect the angels and saints to catch you."

"Faith, Brother."

"Logic, Sister."

"I have to go back," Sam said, stopping one of the many serial arguments between the two.

"No, Sam, you can't," Bobby said.

"You know I have to, Bobby, please," Sam said, meeting the older hunter's eyes.

"Sam, I have to know, do you have a plan?" Bobby asked.

"Of course I do." Sam smiled. "Please, hurry."

"No," Cas said, shaking his head.

"Fine," Ruby said firmly. She walked to a small bureau in the corner and rifled through a drawer. "This is right." She came back across the room with a syringe in her hand. "You do have a plan?" she asked softly.

"Yes," Sam met her eyes. He couldn't lie to her, there was something about her that precluded lies.

She held his look for a long moment then nodded. "I understand. I'll do my best."

"Let me," Cas said wearily, holding out his hand for the drugs. "Okay, Sam, but at the first sign of distress, we're pulling you out."

"Just help Dean," Sam said, feeling the warmth rush up his arm. He closed his eyes, softly repeating the Latin of the spell. Everything faded away, for a moment he floated in the dark, then the cold began seeping in again.

**XXX**

"Jerk," Sammy's dying whisper echoed around Dean. It was there in the room filling it, as well as something else, a touch of his dream world, the warm world filled with the brother he once knew. There was a desperation permeating that world now, a part of Dean thought it had something to do with him.

"No," Dean said. "No." Sammy was dying, dead in his arms. Again. The knife this time in his abdomen not his back, but dead in his arms nonetheless. "Sammy?" he whispered as he held the body, tears finding their way down his face. Something about this man had felt like his brother, more than the man who had accompanied him in the days since his return from hell. Dean looked up at Sam—the other Sam, standing in the doorway, one hand against the frame. "What... Who...?" he started to ask when something hit him or felt like it did. He pitched forward into the dark, Sammy's body still clutched in his arms.

"Dean?" Sam said, annoyance in his tone. "Dean, hey, wake up, you're having a nightmare." There was a pause, then a hand on his shoulder. "Dean! Wake up." This time the words were accompanied by a shake.

"Sam?" Dean opened his eyes and looked around the room, light was filtering through the curtains. "What?" He blinked and tried to bring his fuzzy brain into focus. "There was someone here...?"

"What?" Sam frowned at him. "No. I was in the shower and heard you shouting."

"Huh?" Dean sat up and looked around, half expecting to see... _Who? _

"You were having a nightmare," Sam said easily, Dean could see the lie in his eyes. "Was it about hell? I thought those were getting better."

"No, I... think..." Dean frowned trying to remember the dream. He was sure his brother had been there. _Two, there were two Sams, I think one killed the other. _"Yeah, maybe it was hell. I'm going to take a shower." He stood, grabbed a change of clothes and walked to the bathroom, the dream suddenly vivid, as real as a memory. As he closed the door, he glanced down at his forearm—and froze. The wound Sam had barely looked at the evening before had been tended, several butterfly closures covering the wound. He didn't remember Sam taking care of it, but... he concentrated. He clearly remembered the other Sam, _Sammy, _tending it, talking to him with anger in his voice, but the anger had been directed not at Dean, but at someone else.

_What the hell is going on? _

Dean turned on the shower and let the hot water ease the pain in his neck and shoulders. He leaned against the wall, letting the water flow over him, trying to figure out what was going on. Sam had said the other was a demon the night before, now he said it was a nightmare. _Sam lying to me, what a surprise. So who was that? _Dean turned the water off and got out, he could hear Sam's voice, talking to someone, a draft under the door let him know the door to the room must be open. He listened, Sam was talking to Ruby, her voice grating on Dean's nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. He got dressed and yanked the door open without warning. Sam jumped and slammed the front door closed. Dean suppressed the grin, he was sure he'd heard Ruby's yelp of surprise.

"I'm starving," Dean said, coming into the room. Sam glared at him, then his expression smoothed out. _Nice cover there, Sam._

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah, the diner said they had never ending pancakes until ten." Dean picked up the keys and headed towards the door. He heard Sam moving behind him, and nearly turned to see what was happening, but continued out to the Impala instead. _He's my brother, why don't I trust..._

Sam was silent on the drive to the restaurant. When Dean glanced over, he could see his brother's jaw working as he ground his teeth together. There was an angry frown on Sam's face, it was the frown that Dean was coming to expect there instead of the frown of concern that had often marked his brother's face the the past. The waitress smiled when they walked in and led them to a table in the back corner, by a small window overlooking the railroad tracks and grain silos. She poured coffee, took their order and left.

"Sam?" Dean said after several minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah?" Sam looked up from his contemplation of the coffee cup.

"Who was that last night?"

"No one, I told you, you were having a nightmare."

"No, you said he was a demon."

"No, I didn't, Dean. You crashed during the 'Simpsons' and slept all night."

_You're lying to me, Sam, you think I don't know. _"It felt real."

"It was a nightmare," Sam said, frowning, Dean followed his brother's look. He thought he saw Ruby's small form walking across the street to the city hall. "You hit your head pretty hard yesterday," Sam turned the frown on him. It was close, so close, to the squinch that Dean nearly believed him. "Maybe we should get you checked out."

"Did you see that clinic? No freaking way, I'd be better at the vet's."

"Fine."

"Fine," Dean said, smiling.

The waitress brought their food and Dean settled in with a better appetite than he'd had in awhile. Sam was chatting about the hunt and his research and it fell so normal, Dean let himself be fooled. He had just finished his third stack when he saw someone walking along the tracks. The stride, the set of the shoulders was more than familiar. Dean looked across the table at Sam, then back to the figure outside. _Hallucination? Because, that is Sam out there. Only..._ Dean tried to get a better look without being obvious. The other Sam, the one on the tracks, looked different. He couldn't put a finger on just what was different—except for the hair—but there was something different about him. The tracks-Sam was on the phone as he walked, Dean could just make out that oh-so-familiar frown on his face.

"Dean?" Sam said.

"Huh?"

"I said, do you want to get going?"

"Um, yeah, I need to take a leak first." Dean got up and walked towards the bathroom, as he did his phone beeped with the tone for a text message. When he got in the bathroom, he stepped into a stall and locked the door before pulling out his phone.

"Need to talk to you," the message said.

"Who are you?" Dean texted back.

"Sam. We need to talk," the message came back at lightning speed.

"Sam is with me, who are you?" he shot back, staring at the phone as he waited for the next message.

"No, dude, I'm Sam, he's not." _Did he just type dude? _Dean grinned at the phone. It buzzed again. "Please," the text said. Dean was staring at the phone, wondering what to reply to that, when he heard the door open.

"Dean?" Sam said.

"Dude, a little occupied here," Dean said, putting annoyance into his voice.

"Just wanted to wash my hands, I have that greasy diner smell on them." The water was turned on. Dean held still, wishing he'd turned the sound off on the phone. "Okay, I'll meet you at the car," Sam said. The door opened, Dean waited for a count of three before opening the stall door and making sure he was alone. The phone buzzed in his hand.

"Hello?" the text said. He waited, the phone went off again. "Dean? Please."

"Who are you?" Dean texted back.

"I'm Sam. Please, we need to talk."

"Sam says you're a demon."

"I AM SAM, Dean, SAM I AM. Please, we don't have much time. I have to talk to you about what..." the message stopped then the phone beeped again. "...is going on, you have to listen to me."

"If I say yes, where will we meet?"

"You pick."

Dean thought for a moment. "Field outside of town, there's a shack. 30 mins."

"I'll be there."

Dean walked out of the bathroom wondering how he'd manage the meeting, wondering just who he was meeting. _Ditching Sam might be a problem. _"Hey," he said as he approached the car, Sam was leaning against it, looking across the tracks towards the outskirts of town.

"I was beginning to worry you'd drowned or something."

"You want to head back to where they are finding the bodies?" Dean asked.

"They found the body last night on the other side of town."

"Oh." _Damn. _"Okay, where?"

"I was thinking I could head to the morgue and talk to the ME and you could go out where the other bodies were found and see if there is anything new out there," Sam said casually.

_Are you setting me up? _"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Dean said. _Don't over do it._

"We could cover twice the ground, Dean.

Dean pretended to think about it. "Okay, yeah."

Sam nodded and pushed himself off the car and headed across the street to the city building, Dean watched him go before getting into the Impala and heading out of town to the field. He wanted to get there a little ahead of whoever he was meeting to give himself enough time to be prepared.

Twenty minutes later the car was parked in the center of a newly drawn devil's trap, a ring of salt around the edge of the design. Dean was perched on the hood of the car, waiting for... _Who? Who am I waiting for? _

"Dean?"

He turned towards the voice. It wasn't Sam—at least not the Sam he had breakfast with, this Sam was in a dark blue shirt, the other had been in green. "Stay back," Dean said, raising the shotgun and pointing it at the other.

"You want me to shout?"

"That'll work."

"Can I at least get a little closer?"

"Yeah, but keep your hands where I can see them," Dean growled. To his surprise the other laughed as he held his hands away from his body. "What?"

"Keep your hands where I can see them?" He chuckled. "Dude, you sound like a bad movie."

"Stop right there," Dean said as the other reached the ring of salt.

"Dean, we need to talk," he said, still walking.

"I said stop."

The other stopped and looked at him, hands still held away from his side. "It's me."

"Yeah, right."

"I just walked into a ring of salt and a devil's trap, want to see me walk out again?"

"Yep."

"Okay." He took three steps back, then walked towards Dean again.

"Do it again."

"What?" The squinch appeared, then he smiled. "Okay." He took the steps backwards, then forwards.

"Again," Dean said, wondering if the test would work.

"Fine." He repeated the motions.

"Again."

"I won't," the other said.

"Won't what?" Dean frowned.

"Start singing the Hokey Pokey."

"What?"

"The Dean Winchester is it a demon test number five—make them do the Hokey Pokey."

Dean was staring at him. "What?" he repeated.

"Dean, it's me. Not a nightmare, not a demon, it's me. We have to talk."

"No..."

"I'm not sure what I can say to prove it to you, but it's me," Sam said quietly. "Remember this scar?" Sam pulled up his pant leg, pointing at a small white nick.

"No."

"You don't? Come on, Dean, I was fifteen and we were hunting in Wyoming?" Sam smiled. "We were outside of Wamsutter, and..."

"You fell, just fell all of a sudden, tripped over your feet."

"There was a prairie dog hole, my foot got caught."

"You fell over your own giant feet. They grew faster than the rest of you. You were always tripping over them."

"Was not."

"And that time you ended up needing stitches because you fell over them."

"There was a hole, I didn't trip over my feet."

"You so did. Sammy?" Dean asked, afraid to believe. He took a hesitant step forwards, Sam closed the gap between them and pulled him into a tight hug. _I might have finally lost it. _"It is you?" Dean said as he pulled away.

"Yeah, took you long enough." Tears were heavy in Sam's eyes, it was a look Dean knew all too well and one he had missed since returning from hell.

"But if you _are _Sam, who's that? And what the hell is going on?"

"That's what we have to talk about," Sam said with a grim smile.

_**To Be Continued**_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I've backed up this chapter to Sam's POV for the meeting with Dean. Sammy was quite insistent actually, so I gave him his way. Let me say: Not Death Fic. In case anyone was worried. Extra special thanks to LunasGathering for help with my needed celestial event! Thank you to TraSan_

_A/N II: So, it's Merisha's birthday, and I fully intended to start her birthday story, but I've gotten a little behind in my writing. I'm sorry hon! But let me dedicate this chapter to you as a bit of a hold over until I can get yours up! __**Happy Birthday! **_

**Apercu**

**Chapter Four**

_Each man has a memory  
Much more than the eye can see  
Yet still others linger deep inside you  
Haunting thoughts of pain and joy divide you  
Look beyond your eyes at the dark and moody skies  
For they're standing in your way_

There was a cold drizzle falling, not enough to qualify as rain, but enough to force the damp into Sam as he walked through town to the rendezvous with Dean. He really had no idea how to convince his brother that he was the real Sam, how to tell him what was going on. Dean didn't really take much on faith, and this would require a huge leap. The wind picked up, rustling through the empty trees and dead grass.

It took nearly the full thirty minutes before he reached the field. He could see the Impala sitting by a broken down building. Dean watched him as he approached, raising a gun before Sam could get too close, telling him to stop.

He didn't.

Sam kept walking, stepping carefully over the ring of salt and into the devil's trap that was barely visible in the soft ground. He finally stopped, his hands away from his sides, palms facing towards Dean. "It's me," Sam said.

"Yeah, right."

"I just walked into a ring of salt and a devil's trap, want to see me walk out again?"

"Yep."

"Okay." He took three steps back, then walked towards Dean.

"Do it again."

"What?" He frowned, then realized what Dean was doing. "Okay."

"Again," Dean snapped.

"Fine."

"Again."

"I won't," Sam said, tired of playing the game.

"Won't what?" Dean frowned.

"Start singing the Hokey Pokey."

"What?" A look of surprise appeared on Dean's face.

Sam smiled, remembering the long night they'd spent waiting for some thing to appear. They'd been unsure what it was, spirit, demon, something else. So Dean, after way too much coffee, sometime around three in the morning, had come up with the "Is it a demon" tests. There were ten of them. Sam hoped Dean wouldn't make him do them all. With a sigh he said, "The Dean Winchester is it a demon test number five—make them do the Hokey Pokey."

Dean was staring at him. "What?" he repeated.

"Dean, it's me. Not a nightmare, not a demon, it's me. We have to talk."

"No..."

"I'm not sure what I can say to prove it to you, but it's me," Sam said quietly. The problem was, anything Dean knew, the other Sam would know as well. Sam took a deep breath, trying to think of something, anything, that would help. Suddenly, he remembered the scar on his shin. He pulled up his pant leg and pointed to it. And it worked, Dean didn't remember at first, so the other Sam wouldn't know. _Or will he, now that I mentioned it?_

He saw the change in Dean, the moment he started to doubt—or maybe to believe. "Sammy?" Dean said softly. He took a hesitant step towards Sam, who closed the gap between them and pulled Dean into a tight hug. _Oh god. _Sam did his best to keep control of the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him. "It is you?" Dean asked as he pulled away.

"Yeah, took you long enough." Sam swallowed several times, and felt the burn of tears in his eyes.

"But if you _are _Sam, who's that? And what the hell is going on?" Dean demanded.

"That's what we have to talk about," Sam said, still trying to get control of his emotions. It felt so good to be able to talk with Dean. _It's been so long. _Sam glanced around the field, like everything else here, it was washed in gray, the bleak landscape empty and depressing. The wind was moving around them, a small whirlwind whipping through the grass to their left.

"Well?"

"Well?" Sam brought his focus back to Dean.

"Talk?"

"Right," Sam said, wondering where to start. "Okay," he took a breath to give himself time. It had seemed so simple when he planned it out, when he talked it over with Ruby, but now...

"Yeah?"

"This isn't real," Sam blurted out, then wished he could snatch his words back.

"Right, not real." Dean kicked the front tire of the Impala. "Feels pretty damn real."

"It's not, Dean, none of this is."

"Okay, right, so what is it?"

"It's..." _How do I do this? _"Dean, you aren't here, well you are, but, you aren't. It's not... You... I.. Bobby..."

"This isn't convincing me," Dean said. Sam noticed his brother's grip was so tight on the stock of the shotgun his knuckles were white.

"I know this is going to be hard to believe, but..."

"But?" Dean frowned at him.

Sam took a steadying breath, put his hand on Dean's shoulder and searched his face, wondering if his brother would believe him, wondering what this world had done to Dean. He could see lines of bone-deep pain and weariness, of experiences that had subtly altered the green of his eyes, leaving him as bleak and empty as the surrounding land. "This isn't real, Dean, this is... You never escaped from the djinn."

"What?" Dean pulled back like he'd been burned, bringing the shotgun up again. "No, I got out. I killed myself there, and Sam found me in the warehouse."

"I found you, Dean, but you never came out of it."

"I did. We got out, rescued the girl."

"Girl? There was no...Oh, the bodies. There were bodies there, but they'd all been dead awhile. The djinn's still alive, but we have to get you out of here before I can go after him." _And I will, when I find him... _Sam clenched his fists, trying to control the rush of pure rage the thought of the djinn caused.

"No." Dean was shaking his head.

"Dean, I know it's hard to believe, but..."

"If, and I'm not saying I believe, but if it's true, how are you here?"

"We found a spell, an ancient Sumerian spell, from Uruk, we used the Latin translation from St. Malchus...it had a formula... But we had to wait until there was a lunar and solar eclipse within seven days of each other."

"Who's we? You and Bobby?"

"Uh," Sam hesitated, "yeah."

"You're lying. You think I don't know?"

"Fine, Dean, I had the help of a woman named Rub..."

"Ruby?" For some reason Dean exploded. He backed away, threw open the door to the car and before Sam could react, the engine roared to life and Dean drove off.

"Dean!" he shouted at the disappearing car. He stood there, transfixed to the spot, every hope he'd had leaving with the car. _What do I do now? _"Damn," he said to the empty field.

**XXX**

Dean drove away from the field, not really sure where he was headed, just away. What Sammy had said—well, whoever the hell that had been—was bouncing around in his head like a crazy superball. It pinged from one side of his skull to the other.

The problem was, he wanted to believe Sammy. Not so much what he said, but who he seemed to be. There was something about him that felt like his brother, felt like the person who had stood beside him most of his life. And, he had to admit, the Sam who had traveled with him in the year before hell—and these months after—rarely felt like his brother. It was the little things that made the difference. Gestures, tone of voice, that damn squinch. It was all missing most of the time anymore.

But was it enough? That vague sense that Sam was a little off somehow? That he just didn't feel like Sam anymore? Dean had chocked it up to the year before hell and the months he was gone. He'd tried to hide from the knowledge that maybe the demon blood was affecting his brother, pulling away bits of Sam into the darkness. He even tried to deny that he was losing his brother to the battle they had spent their lives fighting. But was any of that the truth?

What about his dreams? The ones that had haunted him for—_be honest with yourself—_that had haunted him for more than a year. Full of another reality, Sammy's voice, gentle, coaxing. Talking about everyday things, telling him to keep going. Once, speaking through the Sam that was here, saying "I just want my brother back." Was that all part of something else? Something real?

And what did that all mean? Was Sammy telling the truth? Had he never escaped? It had felt so real, but then, so did everything else when he was under the spell of the djinn. Even after he knew what was happening, it felt so real. He'd wanted to stay, it took everything he had to drive the knife into himself. But, that had felt real, too.

What should he do? He was pretty sure Sam and Ruby were planning something, and there was a sick feeling in his gut that they were responsible for at least part of this hunt. Dean had seen her lurking around more than usual, and every instinct he had said it was bad. Sam wouldn't talk about it, wouldn't talk about Ruby, and Dean was done talking anyway. At least about that.

Dean stopped the car in the middle of the road, looking out across the dead, empty fields. The world even looked different since his return from hell. He'd thought if he ever escaped things would seem amazing, like heaven on earth, and instead it was like some holding pattern for a return to hell. He sighed and dropped his head on the steering wheel for a minute, letting it press into his forehead until it actually hurt.

A horn blared. Dean lifted his head and watched as the semi roared around him. He rubbed a hand over his face. He'd made a decision, with a deep breath he flipped a U and headed back towards the field.

Dean turned off a little before the road they'd been using to get to the shack. He wasn't quite sure why, but something told him to, so when he spotted the small track, he eased the Impala onto it, hoping that he wouldn't high center. There were the remains of an old barn, he pulled the car in behind the one wall the was big enough to conceal the Impala. He switched off the engine, grabbed the shotgun and headed out across the field.

Sammy had moved. He was in the center of the field, sitting in an area of crushed and flattened grass. He stopped for a moment. Everything about that sitting figure screamed _Sam_ to him. It was a posture he knew so well, Sam sitting slumped, almost as if he was protecting himself from a blow, head down, one hand pulling at the dead vegetation in front of him. As Dean watched, Sam tossed something away from himself, then pressed his hand to his mouth. It was a gesture Dean recognized easily. Sam was at the end of his rope, desperate, hurting—his heart was telling him to go on, his head was telling him there's no hope. Dean smiled, remembering the first time his brother had described it like that. The confession had hit him hard, but he'd covered, telling Sam that's what happened when your head got too big.

Dean took a step forward, Sam must have seen the movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked over, then scrambled to his feet, holding his hands away from his sides so Dean would know he was unarmed. "Dean?" he called softly, a smile lighting his face.

"Stay there," Dean said, walking towards him. He stopped several feet from him, at the edge of the devil's trap he and Sam—the other Sam—had found. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to fix it," Sam said simply, in that "what the hell do you think, Dean?" tone he got sometimes.

"Fix it? Why?" Dean raised the gun. They'd been finding bodies out here, and now...

"Someone is trying to destroy it, well not just someone, it's the djinn and the demon."

"Yeah, right and why again?"

"We're not sure, but everything is aimed at keeping you here. Bobby thinks the demon..."

There was something about the emphasis that Sam put on _the demon. _Dean looked at him. "_The _demon?"

"Yeah, Dean, _the_ demon? The one who killed mom?"

"He's dead."

"Dead?" Sam said sadly. "No." His face hardened. "But he will be." Sam sighed. "You have to believe me."

"Believe? I'm supposed to believe this load of shit you're tossing at me? Let's see, I didn't escape the djinn, but I stayed alive, even though most victims die within several days, and now you are tossing in the dead demon that killed mom. Yeah, sure, I believe you. NOT."

"I got you out of the warehouse where he was holding you. We thought that would be enough to free you. It didn't. The lore..."

"So now you tell me the lore is wrong? Am I right?"

"Yes, it is. Most people die from blood loss, but if you are taken away from the physical presence of the djinn, it doesn't break the spell he put you under. Think about it, Dean, how many spells like that are broken by just running away? If that worked our job would be pretty damn easy," Sam said, bitterness creeping into his voice.

"Yeah," Dean said grudgingly. It was true, usually you had to kill the creature or the spell or both to stop something.

"Yeah," Sam mirrored his tone. "Believe it or not, Dean, your choice. This is our last chance. We've tried before, more than once. Bobby even found some African Dream Root at one point, and I tried getting in then." Sam swallowed and glanced away. "But this it is. We have this spell, the one that let me in here, the one that I can use to get you out, but this is it. If it doesn't work, you're trapped here forever, well until your body finally gives out. Ruby has a theory about that." Sam smiled fondly. "She has theories about most things."

"Ruby?"

"Yeah." Sam was still smiling, then he must have realized something was wrong, the confused puppy look popped onto his face. "What is it?"

"You're working with that demon bitch and expect me to believe you?" Dean growled.

"Demon? Ruby?"

"I knew you were in it with her, I knew..." He raised the shotgun and aimed it at the middle of Sam's chest.

"Ruby's not a demon, Dean."

"Uh huh, and the demon's alive and I am trapped in the djinn's world."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you get me out sooner—assuming one word is true—why didn't you...?"

"You have to die here."

"Yeah, I know, that's how I got out. I stabbed myself right before you found me."

"No, it doesn't work that way, you can't kill yourself, someone else..."

"Yeah, well, I've died a few times in the last couple of years, you know. Still here."

"I know, we were trying Dean, we realized it had to be with a silver knife and..."

"Yeah, someone tried that too, thought I was a shapeshifter, the freak went after me. I nearly died."

"You should have, but I missed your heart. It was close. So close, but I screwed up."

"You?" Dean whispered. "So, then what? You just decided to send a bunch of hellhounds to maul me and drag me to hell?"

"What?" Sam recoiled as if Dean had punched him. "What? Oh, god, Dean..." He took a step towards Dean, a look of profound agony on his face. "Hell?"

"Like you don't know."

"Dean... Oh god, I... We almost lost you about a month ago, you were.... That must have been, oh, god, Dean..." Sam looked like he was going to be sick. "Hell? No, Dean, I..." Sam turned his head as if he were listening to something. "We're almost out of time, I have to finish this." With a last pained look, he turned back to the circle, walking along the edge, stopping to draw in the ground every once in awhile.

"What are you finishing?"

"It's the other half of the spell, the half to get you out."

"They've been finding bodies out here."

"They're trying to stop us, I told you that," Sam snapped, then looked over at him. "Breaking this is part of that. I think it's finished."

"Now what? You kill me?" Dean said sarcastically.

"Yes," Sam answered gently. "When we were first trying, we didn't realize you had to _let _us. That's why I tried to make you think you were a shapeshifter, so you would let me kill you. You have to consent to it. You have to want to leave here, enough to trust me..."

"Right." But even as he said it, he began to wonder. How many times had he died? Or been put in a position to choose. There was the manic after the shapeshifter. He'd tried to convince Dean to let him kill him, to say yes, that he was deluded and was really a shapeshifter. When Dean had hesitated, doubt creeping in for a split-second, the knife had been driven home. He'd signed the deal for Sam, consented to die. The Mystery Spot came to mind, other moments, even since he got back from hell. What if Sammy was telling the truth?

"DEAN!" The shout came across the field. Sam, the other Sam, was running towards him, Ruby right behind him.

"Get in the circle, they can't touch you in here," Sammy said desperately.

Dean hesitated, caught between what he saw and what he knew.

"Get away from there! He's a demon! Working with Lilith!" Sam shouted, he raised a gun and fired off two shots. Dean braced himself for the impact but nothing happened.

"Get in the circle," Sammy said, there was something wrong with his voice. "Please."

Dean turned. "Sammy!" Without thinking he ran into the circle—feeling a warm buzz of energy as he passed through the border. He grabbed Sam and ripped his shirt open. "No!" He put his hand over the wound in Sam's chest.

"If we don't get out, I fixed it Dean, Bobby will take care of it. I told him, if we... if we..." Sam slumped to his knees. "NO!" he shouted. "NOT YET! If we don't get out, he'll pull the plug Dean, I made him promise. I won't leave you here."

"Sammy?" Dean suddenly knew what that meant. "Both of us?"

"Yeah."

"Get out of there," the other Sam said from the edge of the circle. Dean looked up at him and caught a flash of yellow in his eyes. Ruby was beside him, her eyes black.

"It was good to talk with you," Sammy said, fisting a hand in Dean's shirt. "I've missed you, man."

"Sammy?"

"You have to believe me, Dean. I'm Sam, he's not. There's nothing I can say, nothing more I can do to prove it. God, Dean, I'm so sorry." Sammy coughed.

Dean could hear Ruby muttering under her breath. "We're coming in Dean! Wait for us!" Sam shouted. He had the gun up again, aimed at Sammy.

Dean shifted so he was between the two. He put his hand on Sammy's cheek and lifted his face so he could look in his eyes. Sammy smiled, his confused, hurt smile, the squinch curled between his eyebrows so tight it had to hurt. Dean glanced away, looking at the other Sam standing with Ruby. He was pretty sure this was it, he was going to die one way or the other. Maybe... _Oh god, what if Sammy is telling the truth? Could I...? _He met Sammy's eyes, seeing nothing but his brother there, no hint of demon, no yellow eyes, no demon black, nothing, just Sam.

"Where's your knife?" Dean asked, making his choice.

"What?"

"You said you had to use a silver knife, where is it?"

"Dean?" Sammy slid his hand behind his back and produced the knife.

"No! Dean, don't do it! If you do this... You'll, Dean if you do this, you break a Seal! They want this, Dean! You'll be breaking a Seal! Helping Lilith! Don't do it!" the other Sam shouted. Dean looked over, Ruby had her eyes closed and soft sparks of lightning were beginning to play around the edge of the circle.

"Seal? What's he talking about?" Sammy asked, confusion on his face.

"It's a long story." Dean smiled. "I'll tell you later. Do it." Sammy raised the knife and pressed it against his chest, Dean felt the point against his flesh. He could also feel his brother's hand trembling so badly he could barely hold the knife still. Dean put his hand over Sam's and squeezed. "Do it, Sammy."

"Oh god," Sam whispered, looking down at the knife.

Dean raised his other hand and put it on Sam's shoulder. "Hey," he said and waited until Sam looked up. "It's okay, I want this. It has to be better than here, Sammy."

Sam met his eyes for a long moment then nodded, Dean felt the pressure increase. It was odd, it didn't hurt, there was just this strange weight on his chest.

"NO!" the other Sam shouted. "Get me in there, god damn it, Ruby."

Dean let his head drop against Sammy, his arm fell away from Sam's shoulder. The pain suddenly caught up with him.

"Pull him out! You said you'd pull him out!" he thought he heard Bobby's voice.

"I'm trying!" another voice said.

"Sam! Come on!" a female voice said.

"Dean! No! You can't! You're breaking a Seal!" the other Sam called.

"I'm almost through!" Ruby shouted triumphant, but their voices were growing faint, Dean could barely hear them, barely register them anymore.

Those other voice's—Bobby's and the ones with him were getting clearer, Dean could hear desperation in their tones.

"Time to come home, Dean," Sammy said gently. Dean felt his brother's arms go around him. "Time to come home."

Dean let himself fall against Sam, let the darkness find him.

With a last shuddering breath, he let go, he felt his heart stutter to a stop and the world went away in a flash of light.

"_Time to come home."_

_**To Be Continued**_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Here is is, the last chapter. It is a little long, I hope you all don't mind. I'd like to thank everyone for reading and reviewing. Thanks to those of you who held my hand while I mumbled. Thanks to TraSan and Dennis._

**Apercu**

**Chapter Five**

_Now the earth gives forth its secrets  
_ _Held in mountain sea and plain  
_ _They have never been forgotten  
_ _Only locked inside my brain  
_ _While I slept I had a vision  
I remember  
_ _You were with me_

"Time to come home," Sam's words to his brother were still echoing though his head as pain shot through his body. He could hear other voices—Ruby, Cas, Bobby—shouting from somewhere on the other side of the black wall holding him immobile. Something burned up his arm, it felt like his veins were filling with acid.

"Breathe, Sam, come on, one breath," Ruby said from beside him.

_What? _Sam focused, aware of an ache in his chest and the desperate pounding of his heart. He took a gasping breath, the air rushing into empty lungs.

"Good job, Sam." Ruby's voice was soft. More sounds started filtering through, worrying sounds.

"That's it! His heart's working," Cas said.

"I think Dean's free, you did it, Sam," Ruby said softly.

Sam managed to get his eyes open and looked up into Ruby's smiling face. "What?" Hoping he'd heard right, terrified it hadn't worked.

"I'm pretty sure you got him out." Ruby patted his hand.

"Pretty sure?" Sam took another deep breath, rubbing the spot on his chest where the bullets had slammed into him, it ached like it was badly bruised.

"He's free for the moment, I think, you need to finish it so he can come all the way back home," she said.

"Yeah," Sam said, sitting up. He blinked as the room spun slowly around him, revolving several times before it finally stopped. "Bobby?"

"How do you feel?" the older hunter asked, looking up from Dean.

"We need to get going." Sam swung his legs off the bed and stood, waiting as the room took another spin. "Maybe you should drive." He walked over to Dean's bed and put his hand on his brother's arm. "Dean? I'll be back, I have something to do."

"Tell him the truth," Ruby said quietly.

"What do you have to do?" Cas snapped. "You are in no condition to go anywhere."

"I have to," Sam said, looking over at the doctor.

"Have to do what?" Cas growled.

"Tone, Brother," Ruby chided.

"Tone be damned, Sister! What are you planning?" Cas frowned at Sam.

"He has to kill the djinn," Ruby said placidly. "In order for Dean to truly escape, once and for all, the djinn has to die."

"So? Send Bobby." Cas turned his formidable frown on Bobby.

"It has to be Sam," Bobby said with resignation.

"Has to be?"

"Yes." Bobby sighed. "Or believe me, I would already be on my way." The hunter was frowning at Ruby and Sam equally.

"Sorry, Bobby," Sam said, he looked back down at Dean. "I'll be back, once the djinn is dead." _Unless Yellow-Eyes is there, then maybe... _

"You need to go. I'll keep an eye on Dean." Ruby gave him a gentle push.

"If something happens, Ruby..."

"Don't worry, Sam, I won't leave him vulnerable."

"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?" Cas shouted, then looked sheepish. "Never mind, I know. It's okay, Sam, he won't..." The monk cleared his throat.

"Thanks," Sam said. "How far?" he asked Bobby.

"Four hours."

"It'll be dark when we get there. We need to hurry, we can't lose this chance, Bobby."

"I know, Sam, I know." Bobby said firmly. "We'll fix this tonight."

"Yeah," Sam said softly. "Can I have a minute with Dean?"

"Sure, Sam." Ruby gave him a quick hug, Cas nodded and they left. After a moment, Bobby followed them, closing the door behind him.

"Dean..." Sam said.

**XXX**

"Time to come home," his brother's quiet words were the last thing Dean heard before his heart stopped. He knew it stopped, he actually felt it. The sensation was so much different than before. There was an awareness of his death. There was the sense of sliding between worlds. There was a moment when he was drifting, hearing voices shouting—he couldn't quite make out the words—and then he was swallowed up in silence.

Sound started creeping back in, first a soft hum, then actual voices. Sam's, Bobby's, a woman's and another man, he couldn't make out the words, but from the tone he thought they might be arguing. He listened, trying to figure out what was going on. As he listened, he tried to figure out where he was, what had happened. He remembered being in the field, Sam and Ruby finding them and Sam shooting Sammy. _He said I was trapped in the djinn's world. Did it work? _The thought that he could escape where he was had been the main reason he'd agreed to everything. As he told Sam, anything, even death, would have been better.

"Can I have a minute with Dean?" Sammy said quietly.

"Sure, Sam," the female voice answered.

"Dean..." Sammy said softly, his voice gentle, warm. "I got you out," he said, then chuckled, there was bitterness in the laugh. "Mostly." Sam paused, then there was a tiny shift—like Sam had sat on the bed, and a warm hand covered Dean's. The hand was trembling. Sam sighed, the sound was so much like Sam—Sammy, the person he knew before hell, before everything—that hope started filtering into him. Maybe, maybe it was all true?

"I need to leave. Just for awhile, I hope. I have to kill the djinn." Sam sighed again. "I might not have told you the whole truth, Dean. Well, I told you the whole truth of what needed to happen then, just not everything that needed to happen." He squeezed Dean's hand. "I have to kill the djinn." Sam laughed, this time it was rueful. "Me, before you say anything. It has to be the one that freed you, and it has to be tonight, before the next eclipse. I should have told you, I know." There was a long pause. "You're still vulnerable, until the djinn is dead."

"I have to go, Dean." Sam's voice was suddenly full of tears and his hand tightened on Dean's. He was sure if he were awake it would be so tight it would hurt. Dean tried to return the pressure.

"Dean! Can you hear me? Dean?" Sam took a shaky breath. "Hey, man, I'll be back, as soon as I can. I'm fixing this tonight. I promise. One way or another, this ends tonight." There was a gentle pat on his chest, then Sam was gone, leaving Dean drifting in the dark.

**XXX**

Sam tried to sleep in the car. Bobby was silent after the first few minutes, and Sam closed his eyes, hoping to rest before they got there. He couldn't sleep, however, Dean's words were haunting him. Had his brother really died in the wish world, at the hands of hellhounds, and been dragged to hell? He knew those memories would be real for his brother if he—_when, when—_hewoke up. How could Dean... "We'll figure it out," he said quietly.

"What?" Bobby said.

"Oh," Sam said, opening his eyes. "Talking to myself."

"What's wrong, Sam?"

"Remember when Dean almost died a month ago?"

"Yeah?"

"He told me when I was there in his reality, he said..." Sam trailed off.

"What?"

"He said he'd been dragged to hell by hellhounds," Sam said it so quickly it came out almost as one word.

"He WHAT?" The car swerved, Bobby pulled it back into the lane with a muffled curse.

"Hell, Bobby, he said he went to hell."

"My god," Bobby whispered. "If he remembers that..."

"I know." Sam shook himself, dwelling on that now wouldn't help. "Where are we?"

"About half an hour out."

"Half an hour?"

"You've been asleep. Snoring."

"I thought..." Sam looked out the window, the edge of a small town was visible, the lights twinkling in the distance.

"When we get there, you let me go in first," Bobby said.

"No."

"Yes. No argument on this."

"Bobby..."

"No."

"But..."

"No." Bobby glanced over at him. "No."

"Okay," Sam finally agreed. _It's better this way, he goes in, distracts it—or them—and gives me a chance to kill it. _The rage that accompanied that thought made him blink. Just killing it seemed too easy, too simple for something that had let his brother believe... Sam took a deep breath. _Just focus, kill it, kill the demon if he's there, get back. Just focus, kill it, kill the demon. _He was repeating it like a mantra, drawing strength and finding calm in the fact that it was finally happening.

Sam was still repeating it when Bobby pulled up in front of the warehouse. They'd been there a few days before, making sure the djinn was still using the spot. It had been there for several months, Sam suspected it was because the djinn was suffering. Bobby had done his best to deny it every chance to feed. Sam knew the demon had been providing it victims, they were all dead when Bobby found them, as if when it finally got a chance to eat it gorged itself.

"Okay, wait for the signal," Bobby said, grabbing a knife out of the trunk and handing it to Sam. The older hunter opened a jar of blood and poured it over the blade, then put it back in the car. After that was done, Bobby pulled out a shotgun and a large knife for himself.

"Yeah," Sam said, the mantra still running through his head. He felt a surge of anger flow through him, and he damped it down.

Bobby walked to the door and carefully opened it, glancing to make sure that Sam was waiting before going into the building. Sam listened to the older hunter's footsteps as they moved away from him. He glanced at his watch, he would wait for the signal—or five minutes—whichever came first. While he was waiting he powered off his cell phone. There was no way he would risk it going off and alerting anyone to their presence. It was getting close to his self-imposed deadline when he heard Bobby's call. Sam stepped through the door and into a long hallway.

It was dark in the building, but his eyes adjusted and he walked on with confidence. Bobby was standing in the entrance to the main room of the warehouse, a large space full of rusting cars and old farm equipment. The smell of old gas and diesel filled the air as Sam came up beside the other hunter. Acknowledging Sam with a nod, they moved into the room, Sam heading left, Bobby right. There were three places they had recovered remains of the djinn's meals, they planned to start their search there.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Sam's attention as he skirted a derelict tractor. There was a body dangling from a chain, moving silently back and forth. Sam put a cautious hand on the flesh, it was still warm, he checked for a pulse. Nothing. _But it's fresh, he was just here. _He took a step away from the body.

It came from behind a rusting truck, head down, aimed straight at Sam. The djinn slammed into him with enough force to carry them both into tractor, the large blade mounted on the front narrowly missing Sam. He felt something sharp dig into his back and struck out, knocking the djinn away from him. "Bobby!" he shouted, then went after the djinn again. It was racing between the pieces of equipment, heading for the far side of the warehouse. Sam's instincts were screaming "trap" as he ran. The djinn disappeared behind the hulk of a semi-truck.

"Sam!" Bobby called.

Sam dashed around the cab of the truck. The djinn was there, it's attention focused on Bobby. Sam dove at it, driving it to the ground. It struck out, it's hand connecting with the side of Sam's head. He rolled away and went limp. It grabbed his ankle and started pulling him towards it. Sam stayed lax, letting it draw him in. When he was a little closer to it, he raised his foot and kicked it in the chest. It was shoved away, stopping against the wheel of the truck. Bobby rounded the corner of the truck as it was getting up, a scowl in its face. It stopped when it saw the older hunter. Sam risked a quick glance. Bobby had a shotgun aimed at it. A shot wouldn't kill the djinn, but it would slow it down.

Without warning—without anything that telegraphed what it planned—it launched itself at Bobby, carrying him away under the force of the attack. Sam followed with a shout. The djinn had Bobby pinned on the floor, its hand moving towards the older hunter's face.

Sam didn't waste his chance.

He slammed the knife into the djinn's back, feeling it slide along a rib. The creature reared up, trying to pull the knife out. The djinn collapsed under him. As it fell, Sam pulled the knife out and plunged it down again and again.

"Sam!" Bobby said, grabbing his arm.

He looked up at the other hunter, literally seeing red for a moment. "Let me go," he growled, low and threatening.

"It's dead."

Sam focused on the body beneath him, its back... He swallowed. _Did I do that​?_ He shoved the blade in one last time, giving it a twist to drive it deeper, then he stood. "The demon?"

"Gone. Long gone. He left a calling card back there." Bobby grimaced.

"Okay, let's head out. I want to get back before Dean wakes up." Sam took a step and stumbled into Bobby. "Sorry."

"We'll go as soon as you're patched up. My god, Sam, how bad were you hurt?"

"Am I hurt?" Sam asked.

"You're bleeding."

"Bobby?" Sam looked at the other man. "It is dead?"

"Yeah, Sam, it's dead."

"Dean'll be okay?" He suddenly needed reassurance. It had been so long with this one hope, so long waiting for Dean to wake up.

"Yeah, Sam, he'll be okay." Bobby handed Sam his gun.

"What's this for?" Sam said, staring at the gun.

"I can't help you out and carry that."

"Oh, okay," Sam said and leaned against Bobby for support. "It's over?"

"It's over." Bobby assured him and helped Sam out to the car.

**XXX**

Dean had no idea how long he'd been drifting when the darkness suddenly released him. The light against his eyelids became steadily brighter, the sounds around him steadily louder. He took a deep breath, there was a medicinal scent on the air and underneath that was the smell of coffee gone stale. As more awareness crept in, he could hear a hushed conversation to his left.

He tried to open his eyes and to his surprise they opened.

Dean blinked and focused on the pale blue ceiling. He let his eyes roam around the room. There was a crucifix on the wall opposite him and another bed to his right. The walls were devoid of decoration, just the soft pale blue. Something sparkled on one wall, a small rainbow moving back and forth. He watched it for a long time, a sense of wonder filling him. _When was the last time..? _He tracked down the source of the colors, a glass of water was on a stand beside the bed.

The sound of voices at the door caught his attention. Two people stood just outside, a tiny woman in a nun's habit and a man in monk's robes. Dean watched them for a moment, trying to understand the conversation. He made out the word "Compline." The two seemed to be arguing over it.

He let his eyes drift back at the ceiling, aware of a growing sense of unease. Something had happened. _Sam said he was going to hunt the djinn. Sammy! _He looked around, his brother wasn't there. That explained the unease blossoming quickly into panic. He tried to force himself up, to find Sam. His muscles didn't respond to the command. He took a deep breath and concentrated. Still nothing. _Okay, new tactic. _"Hey," he called, his voice came out as a whisper. Even if it had been louder he doubted they would have heard him, there was a loud commotion from somewhere down the hall.

"Ruby! Cas!" Bobby shouted as Dean was opening his mouth to try again. _What's going on? _

"Bobby!" the nun said and the two hurried away from the door.

Dean could hear the older hunter's gruff voice and the other two answering. He was pretty sure they were the ones he'd heard in his dreams. _Ruby? And Cas?_

"Let me go." That voice was louder than the other two, an angry order snapped out with force.

Dean tried to struggle up. He managed to get a hand into position under himself and started to push himself off the bed. _Come on. I was chasing a skinwalker a few days ago. What the hell? _His body finally started to respond, he was at least five inches off the bed when a gasp stopped him.

"Dean?"

He looked up. His brother filled the doorway. Sam's bangs were tumbled over his forehead, there was a bruise on his cheek and a cut in his hairline was leaking blood across his face. He stood completely still for a moment, tears overflowing his eyes, then he was pulling Dean against him in a ferocious hug, so tight Dean felt his ribs creak.

"Sammy?" Dean said, hoping his voice would work. It must have—Sam responded with a soft sob. "Sam?"

"Hey," Sam said, pulling away. He smiled at Dean, tears running over his face, mingling with the blood.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Dean..." Sam frowned, the frown Dean had been missing since his return from hell.

"Sam, you need to let Cas..." Bobby said, stopping just inside the door. "Dean!" Sam shifted so the older hunter could pull Dean into a hug. "It's good to see you." Bobby stepped back and cleared his throat. "Really good."

Dean smiled at him. Bobby looked older, a little more worn around the edges than he had the last time Dean had seen him a few weeks before. _No, that wasn't real, that's what Sam said. How long has it been? _He turned his attention back to Sam. His brother looked older too, there were lines of grief on his face and a pinched look around his mouth that Dean didn't remember. He was distracted from his appraisal when he realized his hands were covered in blood, he stared at them for a moment, then looked up at Sam, knowing exactly whose blood it was without asking. "Sammy?"

"I'm okay," Sam said. "It's mostly on my jacket, Dean."

"Sam," Bobby growled.

"Sam?" Dean said softly. "What happened?"

"I killed the djinn." Sam closed his eyes for a moment, tears were still running down his face. There was more in the quiet words than the statement of fact, there was a world of pain, of loneliness. Dean tried to reached out to Sam, his arm was slow in responding. _Shit. _"Dean..."

"Sam, you need to get your back taken care of, it will only take a moment," a female voice said gently. "Cas is waiting for you."

"Ruby," Sam said, looking at her, "please."

"It will only take a minute, and Dean needs to be checked, too. You'll be back in less than half an hour."

"No." Sam grabbed Dean's wrist. There was a desperate edge in Sam that Dean recognized. His brother had reached—and long passed—his breaking point.

"No," Dean said with as much authority as he can muster. "Can the doc come here?"

"I figured as much," a man said sourly. "You need to lay down so I can get a look at your back."

"Uh..." Sam looked lost for a moment. As Dean watched, his brother pulled himself back together. "Okay." Sam gave Dean's wrist a squeeze and stood, stripping off his jacket and shirt as he walked to the other bed.

"What happened?" Dean demanded.

"He got thrown into a piece of farm equipment," Bobby said. "I cleaned it up, it didn't look like it needed stitches."

"I'll be the judge of that," the monk said.

"I'm sure he took good care of it, Brother, he always does," the nun said with a smile. "I'm Sister Ruby, Dean. And that is Brother Castiel. He's one of the doctor's here."

"Sister _Ruby_?" Dean asked, looking at her. She sounded a little like the Ruby he knew, but she didn't look like a demon. _Of course they never do. _

"Yes," she beamed at him. "When I joined the Order I was Sister Mary Margaret, but in the Seventies, all the sisters took their own names and I was caught up in the fad." She chuckled. "I never gave up the habit, but I wear sneakers."

"Uh huh," Dean said absently, turning so he could watch the doctor work on Sam. There was a long gash down his brother's back. He could see Sam trembling, his jaws clenched. "Sammy?"

"I'm okay," Sam said, his voice muffled.

"He will be much better once the pain meds kick in," Brother Castiel said, scowling at Sam. "I hope this is the last time I have to do this."

"Last time?" Dean asked, looking from Sam to Bobby.

"You know how it is," the older hunter said with a shrug.

"Yeah." Dean was starting to get tired, it seemed like it was taking longer and longer to get his eyes back open after each blink. _No, I need to stay awake to talk to... _A soft snore came from the other bed.

"Pain meds kicked in," Brother Castiel said with a chuckle. "That will make it easier."

"Is he okay?" Dean said. His eyes refused to open that time.

"He will be," Sister Ruby assured him. "Get some rest."

"But... I... Just... Woke..." Dean slid into sleep.

**XXX**

A sound woke Sam. He lay there for a moment, not sure where he was, then memory rushed back—killing the djinn, coming back, Dean awake. The sound came again. Sam opened his eyes and looked over at the other bed, Dean was asleep, lying on his side. It had been so long since Dean had moved in his sleep at all that tears sprang to Sam's eyes. His brother was breathing rapidly, another small groan escaped his lips.

"Dean?" Sam said, getting out of bed. "Dean!" When his brother didn't respond, Sam gently shook his shoulder. "Wake up."

"Leave me alone," Dean muttered.

"Dean!" Sam shook harder.

"What?" Dean's eyes opened and he looked up with a frown. Sam recoiled from what he saw in his brother's eyes—horror, pain, emptiness, guilt. Dean rolled over on his back and looked at the ceiling.

"Dean?" Sam said, unsure.

"What?" Dean snapped.

"You were dreaming."

"Yeah, hell again, Sam."

"Hell? Oh god, Dean, I'm so sorry." Sam took a step towards him.

"Sammy?" Dean whispered.

"Dean?" Sam sat on the edge of the bed, dropping his hand on Dean's chest. It caused a little ache to twist in his heart. He'd spent many hours talking to his brother just like this, only then Dean had never answered and Sam had been terrified he never would be able to again. "What is it?"

"Sammy." Dean nodded, then looked around the room. "Where am I?"

"It's a care facility run by Ruby's Order."

"Care facility?"

"Yeah, they take care of the elderly and," Sam swallowed the lump in his throat, "the dying."

"And you say I've been here since I went hunting the djinn?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," Dean repeated. Sam was sure his brother didn't believe him. Something in his tone alerted him. Dean looked away from Sam, his eyes roaming the room. "The window," he said quietly.

"What?" Sam turned. Bright pink light lit the curtains, the first rays of sun creeping into the room.

"The color. It's been... Since I got back from hell, it's been so..." Dean swallowed and focused on Sam. "I never escaped the djinn?"

"No, you've been in a coma," Sam said, wondering how many times he'd have to tell Dean before his brother believed him.

"For how long?"

"Nine months." _Nine endless months, Dean._

"Nine months? No. No, it's been two years.

"No, Dean."

"And you didn't..." Dean hesitated.

"Didn't what, Dean?" Sam said gently. Tears were suddenly bright in his brother's eyes.

"You didn't die?" Dean whispered, the words sounding like they were driven out by force.

"Die?" _Oh god, Dean. _

"Yeah, the demon took you and you..." A tear broke loose and ran over Dean's face.

"Dean?"

"You died, Sammy, you..." Dean turned his head away. "But we stopped him. Dad got out, and we stopped him."

"Dean, the demon..."

"It never happened?" Dean said desperately, a sob escaping him. "I wished that? Are you telling me I wished all that? No! I can understand seeing mom, wanting her alive—but the rest... No. This isn't real. Am I still in hell? Alastair, you bastard! Show yourself!" Dean was shouting.

"Dean!" Sam grabbed his brother's shoulders and shook him gently. "Dean, listen to me!"

"No! Let me go!" Dean fought against Sam's hold, but months in a coma had left him weak. "No!"

"Dean, please!" Sam pulled his brother against him and held him as Dean had when they were children and Sam was terrified by a nightmare or something else lurking in the dark. At first Dean continued to fight, then he slowly relaxed. He fisted a hand in Sam's shirt. It was quiet for a long moment.

"It didn't happen?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam said. What his brother had said finally caught up to him. "Dean?" _Oh god, no, please say no._

"Sammy?"

"You went to hell?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Sam, I..."

"For me?"

"Yeah." Dean was completely still, his breathing harsh.

"How long did you have before you went, Dean?"

"A year."

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered, knowing how his brother felt about people who made deals, knowing the pain that must have driven Dean to that decision.

"And when I got back from hell, everything was different. You..." Dean broke off, stopping whatever he was going to say. He pushed away from Sam, leaning back in the bed.

"What?"

"You and Ruby had gotten together while I was gone."

"Ruby?" Sam couldn't stop the laugh. "Really?"

"She wasn't a nun, Sam. She was..."

"Dean?"

"A demon." Dean looked away. "Brother Castiel was there too, or someone named Cas was, he pulled me out of hell."

"I didn't save...?" Sam took a deep breath, trying to force away the pain that revelation brought him. "You must have heard their voices. And Cas did save you, I told you we almost lost you a month ago. He's the one who brought you back."

"He was..." Dean stopped again, a bitter smile on his face. "It wasn't real?"

"It didn't happen," Sam corrected, he put his hand back on Dean's chest, needing the contact.

"I remember it all, Sam, like it was real."

"It was real for you."

"I..."

"Dean, what is it?"

"How could I wish for that?" The desperation was back in Dean's voice.

"It's not like that, Dean. The djinn takes something and makes it into reality. The wish gets twisted somewhere along the way."

"Like in 'Bedazzled'?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam smiled. _Leave it to Dean to have a movie reference, even now. _"You said mom was alive?"

"In my wish, yeah." Dean frowned. "The first wish, I guess. Mom was alive, but we—you and I—weren't really on speaking terms. I'd gone to hunt the djinn when I realized it what was going on. I killed myself there and woke up in the warehouse. You'd just gotten there." He sighed. "I should have figured it out then, you finding me at that moment was a little convenient wasn't it? Shortly after that you were taken by the demon."

"And dad got out of hell?"

"A gate was opened and dad fought his way out. He helped kill the demon." Dean was quiet, tears tracking silently across his face. "It wasn't real?" he said again.

"It was real for you." _What did the djinn find in him to let all that happen? _"Your wish..."

"Yeah?"

"You saved us."

"You died, I went to hell."

"I died, you traded your soul to save me," Sam said, trying to remove the haunted look from his brother's eyes. "Mom was alive, for awhile. Then dad got out. You saved us."

"I went to hell, Sam. How could I wish...?"

"I don't..." Sam broke off, realization sudden;y dawning. "The demon."

"What?"

"He was working with the djinn, to keep you there. We're still not sure why, but we know he was helping. He'd been at the warehouse where I killed the djinn. Bobby found the body."

"Body?"

"He's been leaving us the bodies of the people he's possessed. It started about four months ago. The first one came with a note. Since then just the bodies, but we know it's him."

"Okay," Dean said, but Sam wasn't sure his brother was listening.

"Dean, you wanted save us, no matter what it cost you," Sam stopped when Dean shook his head. _How do I fix this? I don't think this will be an easy fix. _"Dean..." He took a deep breath, tears burning in his eyes as the enormity of what Dean had gone through slowly unfolded. His brother had... _He went to hell. Oh god. _There was a distance between them—at least in Dean's reality—Sam had sensed it the first time he'd been there. _What else? _The words were gone, Sam couldn't think of what to say, what to do. He sat there, staring at the wall over Dean's head, feeling the tears running across his face, unable to do anything but listen to his brother's harsh breathing. Sam had no idea how long they'd been sitting there in silence when Dean's hand covered his.

"Sammy?" Dean said, lingering on the word for some reason.

"Yeah, Dean?"

"You know what?" Dean asked, a half-smile on his face.

"What?"

"I really suck at wishing," he said with what Sam suspected was supposed to be a chuckle. It didn't sound much like one.

He met Dean's eyes. They were still haunted, that world of pain and guilt still there. Sam knew it would take a long time to get rid of it, maybe it would never completely go. Still, Dean was trying to smile. Sam smiled back. "Yeah, Dean, you really do."

**Epilogue**

It was a bright morning, Sam drove through town, humming along with the stereo. He was picking Dean up and they were heading out to Bobby's for a couple of weeks. The older hunter had left three days before, and told them to come to his place as soon as Dean could travel comfortably. His brother was slowly recovering, at least physically. The wish world still clouded his reality once or twice a day. When Dean slept, he was haunted by nightmares of hell. After waking his brother that first time, Sam insisted on staying with Dean. Ruby agreed. No one else dared disagree with Ruby, so Sam had stayed.

Dean talked about those years he'd spent in the world the djinn had created. At first he'd seemed reluctant, but after a little lecture from Ruby, he'd relented and started talking to Sam. About the year after his deal, about his time in hell, about the months after he'd gotten out of hell and how his world had been a different place. The apocalypse had been on the horizon, Sam and Dean in the middle of the final battle between good and evil.

Sam sighed.

It would take a long time to free Dean from those memories, to convince him once and for all that this was the real world. Sometimes he could see Dean still didn't believe him. It wasn't all the time, but every once in awhile Dean got a wild look in his eye. Once when Sam woke him from a nightmare, Dean struck out at Sam, calling him Alastair, before he'd realized where he was.

Sam pulled up in front of the building, Ruby was waiting for him. He turned off the car and got out, leaving the coffee he'd picked up for his brother on the dashboard, knowing Dean would want to leave as soon as he possibly could.

"Sam," she said as he approached.

"Is Dean okay?" Sam asked, panic flaring in his chest.

"He's fine, Brother Castiel is with him right now."

"Good," Sam sighed in relief.

"He's going to be fine, Sam, you just have to give it time."

"Ruby..."

"He will," she said firmly. "I know he will."

"Thank you." Sam stopped. Thank you seemed a little in adequate for everything she'd done for him—for them. She pulled him against her in a tight hug. He rested his head on her. _Without her, I would never have made it. _

"You're welcome," she said after a long moment. She gently pulled away with a smile. "Let's go get your brother."

Cas was standing in the hallway, watching Dean pace outside the door to his room. "Took you long enough," he said, looking up as Sam came down the hallway.

"I've been gone forty-five minutes."

"Which is forty minutes too long. You should have just taken me with you."

"I thought it would be faster, that way Cas could run the rest of tests and..."

"Yeah, fine, whatever." Dean frowned at him. "Where's my coffee? Can we go now?"

"The coffee is in the car," Sam said. "Is he okay to go?" he asked Cas.

"Yes," the monk said with a smile. "You need to check in daily for the next week, though."

"They will," Ruby said from behind Sam.

"Just like that Sister?" Cas said to her.

"Of course," she said. "Have faith."

"I try," Cas said with a wry smile. "You test it quite frequently."

"Part of my job, Brother."

Sam laughed and held out his hand to the monk. Cas took it in a firm grip, meeting Sam's eyes for a moment. Sam nodded understanding. Cas smiled, patted Dean on the back and headed down the hallway.

"Call when you get settled tonight," Ruby said, turning to them.

"We will, Ruby," Sam said. "Ready?" There was no answer. "Dean?"

"What?" Dean looked at him, then blinked. "Oh, yeah, ready. More than ready."

They walked down the hall and out the door into the bright sunshine. Dean stopped in front of the Impala. Sam stood beside him and his brother leaned against him. They stood that way for a long moment, Dean's eyes tracking the single cloud in the otherwise blue sky. They'd been standing there for several minutes when Dean took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Sam glanced over, Dean's face was sad, but when he sensed Sam's look his expression brightened a little.

"You didn't put an iPod in the car did you?" Dean asked.

"An iPod?" Sam frowned at him. "No."

"Good. Don't."

"Okay, I won't." Sam nudged him with his shoulder.

"Yeah, just remember that." Dean looked at him, met his eyes with a smile. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Right answer," Dean said softly. He walked to the passenger side of the car and dropped in.

Sam glanced back, Ruby was in the window watching them. She waved as he turned the car on. Dean was silent in the seat beside him, Sam glanced over. Dean was staring out the windshield, a shuttered look on his face. After a moment Dean rummaged through the box of tapes and shoved something in the stereo, turning up the volume as he did. Iron Maiden's "Wasted Years" blasted out of the speakers.

"It's good to be home, Sammy," Dean said quietly.

"It is," Sam agreed and turned the Impala onto the highway.

_**The End**_


End file.
